# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# 	DRAMATIS PERSONAE
# 
# 
# ESCALUS	prince of Verona. (PRINCE:)
# 
# PARIS	a young nobleman, kinsman to the prince.
# 
# 
# MONTAGUE	|
# 	|  heads of two houses at variance with each other.
# CAPULET	|
# 
# 
# 	An old man, cousin to Capulet. (Second Capulet:)
# 
# ROMEO	son to Montague.
# 
# MERCUTIO	kinsman to the prince, and friend to Romeo.
# 
# BENVOLIO	nephew to Montague, and friend to Romeo.
# 
# TYBALT	nephew to Lady Capulet.
# 
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	|
# 	|  Franciscans.
# FRIAR JOHN	|
# 
# 
# BALTHASAR	servant to Romeo.
# 
# 
# SAMPSON	|
# 	|  servants to Capulet.
# GREGORY	|
# 
# 
# PETER	servant to Juliet's nurse.
# 
# ABRAHAM	servant to Montague.
# 
# 	An Apothecary. (Apothecary:)
# 
# 	Three Musicians.
# 	(First Musician:)
# 	(Second Musician:)
# 	(Third Musician:)
# 
# 	Page to Paris; (PAGE:)  another Page; an officer.
# 
# LADY MONTAGUE	wife to Montague.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	wife to Capulet.
# 
# JULIET	daughter to Capulet.
# 
# 	Nurse to Juliet. (Nurse:)
# 
# 	Citizens of Verona; several Men and Women,
# 	relations to both houses; Maskers,
# 	Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants.
# 	(First Citizen:)
# 	(Servant:)
# 	(First Servant:)
# 	(Second Servant:)
# 	(First Watchman:)
# 	(Second Watchman:)
# 	(Third Watchman:)
# 	Chorus.
# 
# 
# SCENE	Verona: Mantua.
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 	PROLOGUE
# 
# 
# Chorus	Two households, both alike in dignity,
# 	In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,
# 	From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,
# 	Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.
# 	From forth the fatal loins of these two foes
# 	A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life;
# 	Whole misadventured piteous overthrows
# 	Do with their death bury their parents' strife.
# 	The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love,
# 	And the continuance of their parents' rage,
# 	Which, but their children's end, nought could remove,
# 	Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage;
# 	The which if you with patient ears attend,
# 	What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT I
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE I	Verona. A public place.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet,
# 	armed with swords and bucklers]
# 
# SAMPSON	Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals.
# 
# GREGORY	No, for then we should be colliers.
# 
# SAMPSON	I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.
# 
# GREGORY	Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar.
# 
# SAMPSON	I strike quickly, being moved.
# 
# GREGORY	But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
# 
# SAMPSON	A dog of the house of Montague moves me.
# 
# GREGORY	To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand:
# 	therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away.
# 
# SAMPSON	A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will
# 	take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's.
# 
# GREGORY	That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes
# 	to the wall.
# 
# SAMPSON	True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels,
# 	are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push
# 	Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids
# 	to the wall.
# 
# GREGORY	The quarrel is between our masters and us their men.
# 
# SAMPSON	'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I
# 	have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the
# 	maids, and cut off their heads.
# 
# GREGORY	The heads of the maids?
# 
# SAMPSON	Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads;
# 	take it in what sense thou wilt.
# 
# GREGORY	They must take it in sense that feel it.
# 
# SAMPSON	Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and
# 	'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh.
# 
# GREGORY	'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou
# 	hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes
# 	two of the house of the Montagues.
# 
# SAMPSON	My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee.
# 
# GREGORY	How! turn thy back and run?
# 
# SAMPSON	Fear me not.
# 
# GREGORY	No, marry; I fear thee!
# 
# SAMPSON	Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.
# 
# GREGORY	I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as
# 	they list.
# 
# SAMPSON	Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them;
# 	which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it.
# 
# 	[Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR]
# 
# ABRAHAM	Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
# 
# SAMPSON	I do bite my thumb, sir.
# 
# ABRAHAM	Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?
# 
# SAMPSON	[Aside to GREGORY]  Is the law of our side, if I say
# 	ay?
# 
# GREGORY	No.
# 
# SAMPSON	No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I
# 	bite my thumb, sir.
# 
# GREGORY	Do you quarrel, sir?
# 
# ABRAHAM	Quarrel sir! no, sir.
# 
# SAMPSON	If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you.
# 
# ABRAHAM	No better.
# 
# SAMPSON	Well, sir.
# 
# GREGORY	Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen.
# 
# SAMPSON	Yes, better, sir.
# 
# ABRAHAM	You lie.
# 
# SAMPSON	Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow.
# 
# 	[They fight]
# 
# 	[Enter BENVOLIO]
# 
# BENVOLIO	Part, fools!
# 	Put up your swords; you know not what you do.
# 
# 	[Beats down their swords]
# 
# 	[Enter TYBALT]
# 
# TYBALT	What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds?
# 	Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death.
# 
# BENVOLIO	I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword,
# 	Or manage it to part these men with me.
# 
# TYBALT	What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word,
# 	As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee:
# 	Have at thee, coward!
# 
# 	[They fight]
# 
# 	[Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray;
# 	then enter Citizens, with clubs]
# 
# First Citizen	Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down!
# 	Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues!
# 
# 	[Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET]
# 
# CAPULET	What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho!
# 
# LADY CAPULET	A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword?
# 
# CAPULET	My sword, I say! Old Montague is come,
# 	And flourishes his blade in spite of me.
# 
# 	[Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE]
# 
# MONTAGUE	Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go.
# 
# LADY MONTAGUE	Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe.
# 
# 	[Enter PRINCE, with Attendants]
# 
# PRINCE	Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,
# 	Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,--
# 	Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts,
# 	That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
# 	With purple fountains issuing from your veins,
# 	On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
# 	Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground,
# 	And hear the sentence of your moved prince.
# 	Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word,
# 	By thee, old Capulet, and Montague,
# 	Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets,
# 	And made Verona's ancient citizens
# 	Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments,
# 	To wield old partisans, in hands as old,
# 	Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate:
# 	If ever you disturb our streets again,
# 	Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace.
# 	For this time, all the rest depart away:
# 	You Capulet; shall go along with me:
# 	And, Montague, come you this afternoon,
# 	To know our further pleasure in this case,
# 	To old Free-town, our common judgment-place.
# 	Once more, on pain of death, all men depart.
# 
# 	[Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO]
# 
# MONTAGUE	Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach?
# 	Speak, nephew, were you by when it began?
# 
# BENVOLIO	Here were the servants of your adversary,
# 	And yours, close fighting ere I did approach:
# 	I drew to part them: in the instant came
# 	The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared,
# 	Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears,
# 	He swung about his head and cut the winds,
# 	Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn:
# 	While we were interchanging thrusts and blows,
# 	Came more and more and fought on part and part,
# 	Till the prince came, who parted either part.
# 
# LADY MONTAGUE	O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day?
# 	Right glad I am he was not at this fray.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun
# 	Peer'd forth the golden window of the east,
# 	A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad;
# 	Where, underneath the grove of sycamore
# 	That westward rooteth from the city's side,
# 	So early walking did I see your son:
# 	Towards him I made, but he was ware of me
# 	And stole into the covert of the wood:
# 	I, measuring his affections by my own,
# 	That most are busied when they're most alone,
# 	Pursued my humour not pursuing his,
# 	And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me.
# 
# MONTAGUE	Many a morning hath he there been seen,
# 	With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew.
# 	Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs;
# 	But all so soon as the all-cheering sun
# 	Should in the furthest east begin to draw
# 	The shady curtains from Aurora's bed,
# 	Away from the light steals home my heavy son,
# 	And private in his chamber pens himself,
# 	Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out
# 	And makes himself an artificial night:
# 	Black and portentous must this humour prove,
# 	Unless good counsel may the cause remove.
# 
# BENVOLIO	My noble uncle, do you know the cause?
# 
# MONTAGUE	I neither know it nor can learn of him.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Have you importuned him by any means?
# 
# MONTAGUE	Both by myself and many other friends:
# 	But he, his own affections' counsellor,
# 	Is to himself--I will not say how true--
# 	But to himself so secret and so close,
# 	So far from sounding and discovery,
# 	As is the bud bit with an envious worm,
# 	Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air,
# 	Or dedicate his beauty to the sun.
# 	Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow.
# 	We would as willingly give cure as know.
# 
# 	[Enter ROMEO]
# 
# BENVOLIO	See, where he comes: so please you, step aside;
# 	I'll know his grievance, or be much denied.
# 
# MONTAGUE	I would thou wert so happy by thy stay,
# 	To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away.
# 
# 	[Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE]
# 
# BENVOLIO	Good-morrow, cousin.
# 
# ROMEO	Is the day so young?
# 
# BENVOLIO	But new struck nine.
# 
# ROMEO	Ay me! sad hours seem long.
# 	Was that my father that went hence so fast?
# 
# BENVOLIO	It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours?
# 
# ROMEO	Not having that, which, having, makes them short.
# 
# BENVOLIO	In love?
# 
# ROMEO	Out--
# 
# BENVOLIO	Of love?
# 
# ROMEO	Out of her favour, where I am in love.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Alas, that love, so gentle in his view,
# 	Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof!
# 
# ROMEO	Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still,
# 	Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!
# 	Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here?
# 	Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.
# 	Here's much to do with hate, but more with love.
# 	Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate!
# 	O any thing, of nothing first create!
# 	O heavy lightness! serious vanity!
# 	Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms!
# 	Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire,
# 	sick health!
# 	Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!
# 	This love feel I, that feel no love in this.
# 	Dost thou not laugh?
# 
# BENVOLIO	No, coz, I rather weep.
# 
# ROMEO	Good heart, at what?
# 
# BENVOLIO	At thy good heart's oppression.
# 
# ROMEO	Why, such is love's transgression.
# 	Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast,
# 	Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest
# 	With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown
# 	Doth add more grief to too much of mine own.
# 	Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;
# 	Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
# 	Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears:
# 	What is it else? a madness most discreet,
# 	A choking gall and a preserving sweet.
# 	Farewell, my coz.
# 
# BENVOLIO	                  Soft! I will go along;
# 	An if you leave me so, you do me wrong.
# 
# ROMEO	Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here;
# 	This is not Romeo, he's some other where.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Tell me in sadness, who is that you love.
# 
# ROMEO	What, shall I groan and tell thee?
# 
# BENVOLIO	Groan! why, no.
# 	But sadly tell me who.
# 
# ROMEO	Bid a sick man in sadness make his will:
# 	Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill!
# 	In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman.
# 
# BENVOLIO	I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved.
# 
# ROMEO	A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love.
# 
# BENVOLIO	A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit.
# 
# ROMEO	Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit
# 	With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit;
# 	And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd,
# 	From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd.
# 	She will not stay the siege of loving terms,
# 	Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes,
# 	Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold:
# 	O, she is rich in beauty, only poor,
# 	That when she dies with beauty dies her store.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste?
# 
# ROMEO	She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste,
# 	For beauty starved with her severity
# 	Cuts beauty off from all posterity.
# 	She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair,
# 	To merit bliss by making me despair:
# 	She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow
# 	Do I live dead that live to tell it now.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Be ruled by me, forget to think of her.
# 
# ROMEO	O, teach me how I should forget to think.
# 
# BENVOLIO	By giving liberty unto thine eyes;
# 	Examine other beauties.
# 
# ROMEO	'Tis the way
# 	To call hers exquisite, in question more:
# 	These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows
# 	Being black put us in mind they hide the fair;
# 	He that is strucken blind cannot forget
# 	The precious treasure of his eyesight lost:
# 	Show me a mistress that is passing fair,
# 	What doth her beauty serve, but as a note
# 	Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair?
# 	Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget.
# 
# BENVOLIO	I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT I
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE II	A street.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant]
# 
# CAPULET	But Montague is bound as well as I,
# 	In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think,
# 	For men so old as we to keep the peace.
# 
# PARIS	Of honourable reckoning are you both;
# 	And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long.
# 	But now, my lord, what say you to my suit?
# 
# CAPULET	But saying o'er what I have said before:
# 	My child is yet a stranger in the world;
# 	She hath not seen the change of fourteen years,
# 	Let two more summers wither in their pride,
# 	Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.
# 
# PARIS	Younger than she are happy mothers made.
# 
# CAPULET	And too soon marr'd are those so early made.
# 	The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she,
# 	She is the hopeful lady of my earth:
# 	But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart,
# 	My will to her consent is but a part;
# 	An she agree, within her scope of choice
# 	Lies my consent and fair according voice.
# 	This night I hold an old accustom'd feast,
# 	Whereto I have invited many a guest,
# 	Such as I love; and you, among the store,
# 	One more, most welcome, makes my number more.
# 	At my poor house look to behold this night
# 	Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light:
# 	Such comfort as do lusty young men feel
# 	When well-apparell'd April on the heel
# 	Of limping winter treads, even such delight
# 	Among fresh female buds shall you this night
# 	Inherit at my house; hear all, all see,
# 	And like her most whose merit most shall be:
# 	Which on more view, of many mine being one
# 	May stand in number, though in reckoning none,
# 	Come, go with me.
# 
# 	[To Servant, giving a paper]
# 
# 	Go, sirrah, trudge about
# 	Through fair Verona; find those persons out
# 	Whose names are written there, and to them say,
# 	My house and welcome on their pleasure stay.
# 
# 	[Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS]
# 
# Servant	Find them out whose names are written here! It is
# 	written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his
# 	yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with
# 	his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am
# 	sent to find those persons whose names are here
# 	writ, and can never find what names the writing
# 	person hath here writ. I must to the learned.--In good time.
# 
# 	[Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO]
# 
# BENVOLIO	Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning,
# 	One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish;
# 	Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning;
# 	One desperate grief cures with another's languish:
# 	Take thou some new infection to thy eye,
# 	And the rank poison of the old will die.
# 
# ROMEO	Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that.
# 
# BENVOLIO	For what, I pray thee?
# 
# ROMEO	For your broken shin.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Why, Romeo, art thou mad?
# 
# ROMEO	Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is;
# 	Shut up in prison, kept without my food,
# 	Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow.
# 
# Servant	God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read?
# 
# ROMEO	Ay, mine own fortune in my misery.
# 
# Servant	Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I
# 	pray, can you read any thing you see?
# 
# ROMEO	Ay, if I know the letters and the language.
# 
# Servant	Ye say honestly: rest you merry!
# 
# ROMEO	Stay, fellow; I can read.
# 
# 	[Reads]
# 
# 	'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters;
# 	County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady
# 	widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely
# 	nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine
# 	uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece
# 	Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin
# 	Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair
# 	assembly: whither should they come?
# 
# Servant	Up.
# 
# ROMEO	Whither?
# 
# Servant	To supper; to our house.
# 
# ROMEO	Whose house?
# 
# Servant	My master's.
# 
# ROMEO	Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before.
# 
# Servant	Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the
# 	great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house
# 	of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine.
# 	Rest you merry!
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# BENVOLIO	At this same ancient feast of Capulet's
# 	Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest,
# 	With all the admired beauties of Verona:
# 	Go thither; and, with unattainted eye,
# 	Compare her face with some that I shall show,
# 	And I will make thee think thy swan a crow.
# 
# ROMEO	When the devout religion of mine eye
# 	Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires;
# 	And these, who often drown'd could never die,
# 	Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars!
# 	One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun
# 	Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by,
# 	Herself poised with herself in either eye:
# 	But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd
# 	Your lady's love against some other maid
# 	That I will show you shining at this feast,
# 	And she shall scant show well that now shows best.
# 
# ROMEO	I'll go along, no such sight to be shown,
# 	But to rejoice in splendor of mine own.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT I
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE III	A room in Capulet's house.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse]
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me.
# 
# Nurse	Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old,
# 	I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird!
# 	God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet!
# 
# 	[Enter JULIET]
# 
# JULIET	How now! who calls?
# 
# Nurse	Your mother.
# 
# JULIET	Madam, I am here.
# 	What is your will?
# 
# LADY CAPULET	This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile,
# 	We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again;
# 	I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel.
# 	Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age.
# 
# Nurse	Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	She's not fourteen.
# 
# Nurse	I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,--
# 	And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four--
# 	She is not fourteen. How long is it now
# 	To Lammas-tide?
# 
# LADY CAPULET	                  A fortnight and odd days.
# 
# Nurse	Even or odd, of all days in the year,
# 	Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen.
# 	Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!--
# 	Were of an age: well, Susan is with God;
# 	She was too good for me: but, as I said,
# 	On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen;
# 	That shall she, marry; I remember it well.
# 	'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years;
# 	And she was wean'd,--I never shall forget it,--
# 	Of all the days of the year, upon that day:
# 	For I had then laid wormwood to my dug,
# 	Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall;
# 	My lord and you were then at Mantua:--
# 	Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said,
# 	When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple
# 	Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool,
# 	To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug!
# 	Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow,
# 	To bid me trudge:
# 	And since that time it is eleven years;
# 	For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood,
# 	She could have run and waddled all about;
# 	For even the day before, she broke her brow:
# 	And then my husband--God be with his soul!
# 	A' was a merry man--took up the child:
# 	'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face?
# 	Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit;
# 	Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame,
# 	The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.'
# 	To see, now, how a jest shall come about!
# 	I warrant, an I should live a thousand years,
# 	I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he;
# 	And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.'
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace.
# 
# Nurse	Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh,
# 	To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.'
# 	And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow
# 	A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone;
# 	A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly:
# 	'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face?
# 	Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age;
# 	Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.'
# 
# JULIET	And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I.
# 
# Nurse	Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace!
# 	Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed:
# 	An I might live to see thee married once,
# 	I have my wish.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme
# 	I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet,
# 	How stands your disposition to be married?
# 
# JULIET	It is an honour that I dream not of.
# 
# Nurse	An honour! were not I thine only nurse,
# 	I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Well, think of marriage now; younger than you,
# 	Here in Verona, ladies of esteem,
# 	Are made already mothers: by my count,
# 	I was your mother much upon these years
# 	That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief:
# 	The valiant Paris seeks you for his love.
# 
# Nurse	A man, young lady! lady, such a man
# 	As all the world--why, he's a man of wax.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Verona's summer hath not such a flower.
# 
# Nurse	Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	What say you? can you love the gentleman?
# 	This night you shall behold him at our feast;
# 	Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face,
# 	And find delight writ there with beauty's pen;
# 	Examine every married lineament,
# 	And see how one another lends content
# 	And what obscured in this fair volume lies
# 	Find written in the margent of his eyes.
# 	This precious book of love, this unbound lover,
# 	To beautify him, only lacks a cover:
# 	The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride
# 	For fair without the fair within to hide:
# 	That book in many's eyes doth share the glory,
# 	That in gold clasps locks in the golden story;
# 	So shall you share all that he doth possess,
# 	By having him, making yourself no less.
# 
# Nurse	No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love?
# 
# JULIET	I'll look to like, if looking liking move:
# 	But no more deep will I endart mine eye
# 	Than your consent gives strength to make it fly.
# 
# 	[Enter a Servant]
# 
# Servant	Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you
# 	called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in
# 	the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must
# 	hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	We follow thee.
# 
# 	[Exit Servant]
# 
# 	Juliet, the county stays.
# 
# Nurse	Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT I
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE IV	A street.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six
# 	Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others]
# 
# ROMEO	What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse?
# 	Or shall we on without a apology?
# 
# BENVOLIO	The date is out of such prolixity:
# 	We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf,
# 	Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath,
# 	Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper;
# 	Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke
# 	After the prompter, for our entrance:
# 	But let them measure us by what they will;
# 	We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.
# 
# ROMEO	Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling;
# 	Being but heavy, I will bear the light.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.
# 
# ROMEO	Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes
# 	With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead
# 	So stakes me to the ground I cannot move.
# 
# MERCUTIO	You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings,
# 	And soar with them above a common bound.
# 
# ROMEO	I am too sore enpierced with his shaft
# 	To soar with his light feathers, and so bound,
# 	I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe:
# 	Under love's heavy burden do I sink.
# 
# MERCUTIO	And, to sink in it, should you burden love;
# 	Too great oppression for a tender thing.
# 
# ROMEO	Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
# 	Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
# 
# MERCUTIO	If love be rough with you, be rough with love;
# 	Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
# 	Give me a case to put my visage in:
# 	A visor for a visor! what care I
# 	What curious eye doth quote deformities?
# 	Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in,
# 	But every man betake him to his legs.
# 
# ROMEO	A torch for me: let wantons light of heart
# 	Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels,
# 	For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase;
# 	I'll be a candle-holder, and look on.
# 	The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word:
# 	If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
# 	Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st
# 	Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!
# 
# ROMEO	Nay, that's not so.
# 
# MERCUTIO	I mean, sir, in delay
# 	We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day.
# 	Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits
# 	Five times in that ere once in our five wits.
# 
# ROMEO	And we mean well in going to this mask;
# 	But 'tis no wit to go.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Why, may one ask?
# 
# ROMEO	I dream'd a dream to-night.
# 
# MERCUTIO	And so did I.
# 
# ROMEO	Well, what was yours?
# 
# MERCUTIO	That dreamers often lie.
# 
# ROMEO	In bed asleep, while they do dream things true.
# 
# MERCUTIO	O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you.
# 	She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes
# 	In shape no bigger than an agate-stone
# 	On the fore-finger of an alderman,
# 	Drawn with a team of little atomies
# 	Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep;
# 	Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs,
# 	The cover of the wings of grasshoppers,
# 	The traces of the smallest spider's web,
# 	The collars of the moonshine's watery beams,
# 	Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film,
# 	Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat,
# 	Not so big as a round little worm
# 	Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid;
# 	Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut
# 	Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub,
# 	Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.
# 	And in this state she gallops night by night
# 	Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love;
# 	O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight,
# 	O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees,
# 	O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream,
# 	Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues,
# 	Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are:
# 	Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose,
# 	And then dreams he of smelling out a suit;
# 	And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail
# 	Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep,
# 	Then dreams, he of another benefice:
# 	Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck,
# 	And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats,
# 	Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades,
# 	Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon
# 	Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes,
# 	And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two
# 	And sleeps again. This is that very Mab
# 	That plats the manes of horses in the night,
# 	And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs,
# 	Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes:
# 	This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs,
# 	That presses them and learns them first to bear,
# 	Making them women of good carriage:
# 	This is she--
# 
# ROMEO	                  Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!
# 	Thou talk'st of nothing.
# 
# MERCUTIO	True, I talk of dreams,
# 	Which are the children of an idle brain,
# 	Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,
# 	Which is as thin of substance as the air
# 	And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes
# 	Even now the frozen bosom of the north,
# 	And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,
# 	Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.
# 
# BENVOLIO	This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves;
# 	Supper is done, and we shall come too late.
# 
# ROMEO	I fear, too early: for my mind misgives
# 	Some consequence yet hanging in the stars
# 	Shall bitterly begin his fearful date
# 	With this night's revels and expire the term
# 	Of a despised life closed in my breast
# 	By some vile forfeit of untimely death.
# 	But He, that hath the steerage of my course,
# 	Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Strike, drum.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT I
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE V	A hall in Capulet's house.
# 
# 
# 	[Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins]
# 
# First Servant	Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He
# 	shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher!
# 
# Second Servant	When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's
# 	hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing.
# 
# First Servant	Away with the joint-stools, remove the
# 	court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save
# 	me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let
# 	the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell.
# 	Antony, and Potpan!
# 
# Second Servant	Ay, boy, ready.
# 
# First Servant	You are looked for and called for, asked for and
# 	sought for, in the great chamber.
# 
# Second Servant	We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be
# 	brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all.
# 
# 	[Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house,
# 	meeting the Guests and Maskers]
# 
# CAPULET	Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes
# 	Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you.
# 	Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all
# 	Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty,
# 	She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now?
# 	Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day
# 	That I have worn a visor and could tell
# 	A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear,
# 	Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone:
# 	You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play.
# 	A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls.
# 
# 	[Music plays, and they dance]
# 
# 	More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up,
# 	And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot.
# 	Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well.
# 	Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet;
# 	For you and I are past our dancing days:
# 	How long is't now since last yourself and I
# 	Were in a mask?
# 
# Second Capulet	                  By'r lady, thirty years.
# 
# CAPULET	What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much:
# 	'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio,
# 	Come pentecost as quickly as it will,
# 	Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd.
# 
# Second Capulet	'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir;
# 	His son is thirty.
# 
# CAPULET	                  Will you tell me that?
# 	His son was but a ward two years ago.
# 
# ROMEO	[To a Servingman]  What lady is that, which doth
# 	enrich the hand
# 	Of yonder knight?
# 
# Servant	I know not, sir.
# 
# ROMEO	O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
# 	It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
# 	Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear;
# 	Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!
# 	So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows,
# 	As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows.
# 	The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand,
# 	And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.
# 	Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight!
# 	For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.
# 
# TYBALT	This, by his voice, should be a Montague.
# 	Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave
# 	Come hither, cover'd with an antic face,
# 	To fleer and scorn at our solemnity?
# 	Now, by the stock and honour of my kin,
# 	To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin.
# 
# CAPULET	Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so?
# 
# TYBALT	Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe,
# 	A villain that is hither come in spite,
# 	To scorn at our solemnity this night.
# 
# CAPULET	Young Romeo is it?
# 
# TYBALT	'Tis he, that villain Romeo.
# 
# CAPULET	Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone;
# 	He bears him like a portly gentleman;
# 	And, to say truth, Verona brags of him
# 	To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth:
# 	I would not for the wealth of all the town
# 	Here in my house do him disparagement:
# 	Therefore be patient, take no note of him:
# 	It is my will, the which if thou respect,
# 	Show a fair presence and put off these frowns,
# 	And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast.
# 
# TYBALT	It fits, when such a villain is a guest:
# 	I'll not endure him.
# 
# CAPULET	He shall be endured:
# 	What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to;
# 	Am I the master here, or you? go to.
# 	You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul!
# 	You'll make a mutiny among my guests!
# 	You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man!
# 
# TYBALT	Why, uncle, 'tis a shame.
# 
# CAPULET	Go to, go to;
# 	You are a saucy boy: is't so, indeed?
# 	This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what:
# 	You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time.
# 	Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go:
# 	Be quiet, or--More light, more light! For shame!
# 	I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts!
# 
# TYBALT	Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting
# 	Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting.
# 	I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall
# 	Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# ROMEO	[To JULIET]  If I profane with my unworthiest hand
# 	This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:
# 	My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
# 	To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.
# 
# JULIET	Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,
# 	Which mannerly devotion shows in this;
# 	For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,
# 	And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.
# 
# ROMEO	Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?
# 
# JULIET	Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.
# 
# ROMEO	O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;
# 	They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.
# 
# JULIET	Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.
# 
# ROMEO	Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.
# 	Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.
# 
# JULIET	Then have my lips the sin that they have took.
# 
# ROMEO	Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!
# 	Give me my sin again.
# 
# JULIET	You kiss by the book.
# 
# Nurse	Madam, your mother craves a word with you.
# 
# ROMEO	What is her mother?
# 
# Nurse	Marry, bachelor,
# 	Her mother is the lady of the house,
# 	And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous
# 	I nursed her daughter, that you talk'd withal;
# 	I tell you, he that can lay hold of her
# 	Shall have the chinks.
# 
# ROMEO	Is she a Capulet?
# 	O dear account! my life is my foe's debt.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Away, begone; the sport is at the best.
# 
# ROMEO	Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest.
# 
# CAPULET	Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone;
# 	We have a trifling foolish banquet towards.
# 	Is it e'en so? why, then, I thank you all
# 	I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night.
# 	More torches here! Come on then, let's to bed.
# 	Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late:
# 	I'll to my rest.
# 
# 	[Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse]
# 
# JULIET	Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman?
# 
# Nurse	The son and heir of old Tiberio.
# 
# JULIET	What's he that now is going out of door?
# 
# Nurse	Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio.
# 
# JULIET	What's he that follows there, that would not dance?
# 
# Nurse	I know not.
# 
# JULIET	Go ask his name: if he be married.
# 	My grave is like to be my wedding bed.
# 
# Nurse	His name is Romeo, and a Montague;
# 	The only son of your great enemy.
# 
# JULIET	My only love sprung from my only hate!
# 	Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
# 	Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
# 	That I must love a loathed enemy.
# 
# Nurse	What's this? what's this?
# 
# JULIET	A rhyme I learn'd even now
# 	Of one I danced withal.
# 
# 	[One calls within 'Juliet.']
# 
# Nurse	Anon, anon!
# 	Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT II
# 
# 
# 	PROLOGUE
# 
# 
# 	[Enter Chorus]
# 
# Chorus	Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie,
# 	And young affection gapes to be his heir;
# 	That fair for which love groan'd for and would die,
# 	With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair.
# 	Now Romeo is beloved and loves again,
# 	Alike betwitched by the charm of looks,
# 	But to his foe supposed he must complain,
# 	And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks:
# 	Being held a foe, he may not have access
# 	To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear;
# 	And she as much in love, her means much less
# 	To meet her new-beloved any where:
# 	But passion lends them power, time means, to meet
# 	Tempering extremities with extreme sweet.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT II
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE I	A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter ROMEO]
# 
# ROMEO	Can I go forward when my heart is here?
# 	Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out.
# 
# 	[He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it]
# 
# 	[Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO]
# 
# BENVOLIO	Romeo! my cousin Romeo!
# 
# MERCUTIO	He is wise;
# 	And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed.
# 
# BENVOLIO	He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall:
# 	Call, good Mercutio.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Nay, I'll conjure too.
# 	Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!
# 	Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:
# 	Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied;
# 	Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;'
# 	Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word,
# 	One nick-name for her purblind son and heir,
# 	Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim,
# 	When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid!
# 	He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not;
# 	The ape is dead, and I must conjure him.
# 	I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes,
# 	By her high forehead and her scarlet lip,
# 	By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh
# 	And the demesnes that there adjacent lie,
# 	That in thy likeness thou appear to us!
# 
# BENVOLIO	And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him.
# 
# MERCUTIO	This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him
# 	To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle
# 	Of some strange nature, letting it there stand
# 	Till she had laid it and conjured it down;
# 	That were some spite: my invocation
# 	Is fair and honest, and in his mistress' name
# 	I conjure only but to raise up him.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,
# 	To be consorted with the humorous night:
# 	Blind is his love and best befits the dark.
# 
# MERCUTIO	If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
# 	Now will he sit under a medlar tree,
# 	And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
# 	As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.
# 	Romeo, that she were, O, that she were
# 	An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear!
# 	Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed;
# 	This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:
# 	Come, shall we go?
# 
# BENVOLIO	                  Go, then; for 'tis in vain
# 	To seek him here that means not to be found.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT II
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE II	Capulet's orchard.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter ROMEO]
# 
# ROMEO	He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
# 
# 	[JULIET appears above at a window]
# 
# 	But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
# 	It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
# 	Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
# 	Who is already sick and pale with grief,
# 	That thou her maid art far more fair than she:
# 	Be not her maid, since she is envious;
# 	Her vestal livery is but sick and green
# 	And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
# 	It is my lady, O, it is my love!
# 	O, that she knew she were!
# 	She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that?
# 	Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
# 	I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks:
# 	Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
# 	Having some business, do entreat her eyes
# 	To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
# 	What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
# 	The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
# 	As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
# 	Would through the airy region stream so bright
# 	That birds would sing and think it were not night.
# 	See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
# 	O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
# 	That I might touch that cheek!
# 
# JULIET	Ay me!
# 
# ROMEO	She speaks:
# 	O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art
# 	As glorious to this night, being o'er my head
# 	As is a winged messenger of heaven
# 	Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes
# 	Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him
# 	When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds
# 	And sails upon the bosom of the air.
# 
# JULIET	O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
# 	Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
# 	Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
# 	And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
# 
# ROMEO	[Aside]  Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?
# 
# JULIET	'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
# 	Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
# 	What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
# 	Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
# 	Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
# 	What's in a name? that which we call a rose
# 	By any other name would smell as sweet;
# 	So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
# 	Retain that dear perfection which he owes
# 	Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
# 	And for that name which is no part of thee
# 	Take all myself.
# 
# ROMEO	                  I take thee at thy word:
# 	Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized;
# 	Henceforth I never will be Romeo.
# 
# JULIET	What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night
# 	So stumblest on my counsel?
# 
# ROMEO	By a name
# 	I know not how to tell thee who I am:
# 	My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
# 	Because it is an enemy to thee;
# 	Had I it written, I would tear the word.
# 
# JULIET	My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words
# 	Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound:
# 	Art thou not Romeo and a Montague?
# 
# ROMEO	Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike.
# 
# JULIET	How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?
# 	The orchard walls are high and hard to climb,
# 	And the place death, considering who thou art,
# 	If any of my kinsmen find thee here.
# 
# ROMEO	With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;
# 	For stony limits cannot hold love out,
# 	And what love can do that dares love attempt;
# 	Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.
# 
# JULIET	If they do see thee, they will murder thee.
# 
# ROMEO	Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye
# 	Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet,
# 	And I am proof against their enmity.
# 
# JULIET	I would not for the world they saw thee here.
# 
# ROMEO	I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight;
# 	And but thou love me, let them find me here:
# 	My life were better ended by their hate,
# 	Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.
# 
# JULIET	By whose direction found'st thou out this place?
# 
# ROMEO	By love, who first did prompt me to inquire;
# 	He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes.
# 	I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far
# 	As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea,
# 	I would adventure for such merchandise.
# 
# JULIET	Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face,
# 	Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek
# 	For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night
# 	Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny
# 	What I have spoke: but farewell compliment!
# 	Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,'
# 	And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st,
# 	Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries
# 	Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
# 	If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
# 	Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
# 	I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay,
# 	So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world.
# 	In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond,
# 	And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light:
# 	But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
# 	Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
# 	I should have been more strange, I must confess,
# 	But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
# 	My true love's passion: therefore pardon me,
# 	And not impute this yielding to light love,
# 	Which the dark night hath so discovered.
# 
# ROMEO	Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear
# 	That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops--
# 
# JULIET	O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,
# 	That monthly changes in her circled orb,
# 	Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.
# 
# ROMEO	What shall I swear by?
# 
# JULIET	Do not swear at all;
# 	Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self,
# 	Which is the god of my idolatry,
# 	And I'll believe thee.
# 
# ROMEO	If my heart's dear love--
# 
# JULIET	Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee,
# 	I have no joy of this contract to-night:
# 	It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden;
# 	Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be
# 	Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night!
# 	This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath,
# 	May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet.
# 	Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest
# 	Come to thy heart as that within my breast!
# 
# ROMEO	O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?
# 
# JULIET	What satisfaction canst thou have to-night?
# 
# ROMEO	The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.
# 
# JULIET	I gave thee mine before thou didst request it:
# 	And yet I would it were to give again.
# 
# ROMEO	Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love?
# 
# JULIET	But to be frank, and give it thee again.
# 	And yet I wish but for the thing I have:
# 	My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
# 	My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
# 	The more I have, for both are infinite.
# 
# 	[Nurse calls within]
# 
# 	I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu!
# 	Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true.
# 	Stay but a little, I will come again.
# 
# 	[Exit, above]
# 
# ROMEO	O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard.
# 	Being in night, all this is but a dream,
# 	Too flattering-sweet to be substantial.
# 
# 	[Re-enter JULIET, above]
# 
# JULIET	Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed.
# 	If that thy bent of love be honourable,
# 	Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow,
# 	By one that I'll procure to come to thee,
# 	Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite;
# 	And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay
# 	And follow thee my lord throughout the world.
# 
# Nurse	[Within]  Madam!
# 
# JULIET	I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well,
# 	I do beseech thee--
# 
# Nurse	[Within]  Madam!
# 
# JULIET	By and by, I come:--
# 	To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief:
# 	To-morrow will I send.
# 
# ROMEO	So thrive my soul--
# 
# JULIET	A thousand times good night!
# 
# 	[Exit, above]
# 
# ROMEO	A thousand times the worse, to want thy light.
# 	Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from
# 	their books,
# 	But love from love, toward school with heavy looks.
# 
# 	[Retiring]
# 
# 	[Re-enter JULIET, above]
# 
# JULIET	Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice,
# 	To lure this tassel-gentle back again!
# 	Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;
# 	Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies,
# 	And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine,
# 	With repetition of my Romeo's name.
# 
# ROMEO	It is my soul that calls upon my name:
# 	How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
# 	Like softest music to attending ears!
# 
# JULIET	Romeo!
# 
# ROMEO	     My dear?
# 
# JULIET	                  At what o'clock to-morrow
# 	Shall I send to thee?
# 
# ROMEO	At the hour of nine.
# 
# JULIET	I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then.
# 	I have forgot why I did call thee back.
# 
# ROMEO	Let me stand here till thou remember it.
# 
# JULIET	I shall forget, to have thee still stand there,
# 	Remembering how I love thy company.
# 
# ROMEO	And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget,
# 	Forgetting any other home but this.
# 
# JULIET	'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:
# 	And yet no further than a wanton's bird;
# 	Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
# 	Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
# 	And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
# 	So loving-jealous of his liberty.
# 
# ROMEO	I would I were thy bird.
# 
# JULIET	Sweet, so would I:
# 	Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
# 	Good night, good night! parting is such
# 	sweet sorrow,
# 	That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
# 
# 	[Exit above]
# 
# ROMEO	Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!
# 	Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!
# 	Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell,
# 	His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT II
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE III	Friar Laurence's cell.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with a basket]
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night,
# 	Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light,
# 	And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels
# 	From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels:
# 	Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye,
# 	The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry,
# 	I must up-fill this osier cage of ours
# 	With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers.
# 	The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb;
# 	What is her burying grave that is her womb,
# 	And from her womb children of divers kind
# 	We sucking on her natural bosom find,
# 	Many for many virtues excellent,
# 	None but for some and yet all different.
# 	O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies
# 	In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities:
# 	For nought so vile that on the earth doth live
# 	But to the earth some special good doth give,
# 	Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use
# 	Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse:
# 	Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied;
# 	And vice sometimes by action dignified.
# 	Within the infant rind of this small flower
# 	Poison hath residence and medicine power:
# 	For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part;
# 	Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart.
# 	Two such opposed kings encamp them still
# 	In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will;
# 	And where the worser is predominant,
# 	Full soon the canker death eats up that plant.
# 
# 	[Enter ROMEO]
# 
# ROMEO	Good morrow, father.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Benedicite!
# 	What early tongue so sweet saluteth me?
# 	Young son, it argues a distemper'd head
# 	So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed:
# 	Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye,
# 	And where care lodges, sleep will never lie;
# 	But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain
# 	Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign:
# 	Therefore thy earliness doth me assure
# 	Thou art up-roused by some distemperature;
# 	Or if not so, then here I hit it right,
# 	Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night.
# 
# ROMEO	That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline?
# 
# ROMEO	With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no;
# 	I have forgot that name, and that name's woe.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	That's my good son: but where hast thou been, then?
# 
# ROMEO	I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again.
# 	I have been feasting with mine enemy,
# 	Where on a sudden one hath wounded me,
# 	That's by me wounded: both our remedies
# 	Within thy help and holy physic lies:
# 	I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo,
# 	My intercession likewise steads my foe.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift;
# 	Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift.
# 
# ROMEO	Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set
# 	On the fair daughter of rich Capulet:
# 	As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine;
# 	And all combined, save what thou must combine
# 	By holy marriage: when and where and how
# 	We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow,
# 	I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray,
# 	That thou consent to marry us to-day.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here!
# 	Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear,
# 	So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies
# 	Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.
# 	Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine
# 	Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline!
# 	How much salt water thrown away in waste,
# 	To season love, that of it doth not taste!
# 	The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears,
# 	Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears;
# 	Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit
# 	Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet:
# 	If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine,
# 	Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline:
# 	And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then,
# 	Women may fall, when there's no strength in men.
# 
# ROMEO	Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	For doting, not for loving, pupil mine.
# 
# ROMEO	And bad'st me bury love.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Not in a grave,
# 	To lay one in, another out to have.
# 
# ROMEO	I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now
# 	Doth grace for grace and love for love allow;
# 	The other did not so.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	O, she knew well
# 	Thy love did read by rote and could not spell.
# 	But come, young waverer, come, go with me,
# 	In one respect I'll thy assistant be;
# 	For this alliance may so happy prove,
# 	To turn your households' rancour to pure love.
# 
# ROMEO	O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT II
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE IV	A street.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO]
# 
# MERCUTIO	Where the devil should this Romeo be?
# 	Came he not home to-night?
# 
# BENVOLIO	Not to his father's; I spoke with his man.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline.
# 	Torments him so, that he will sure run mad.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet,
# 	Hath sent a letter to his father's house.
# 
# MERCUTIO	A challenge, on my life.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Romeo will answer it.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Any man that can write may answer a letter.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he
# 	dares, being dared.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a
# 	white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a
# 	love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the
# 	blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to
# 	encounter Tybalt?
# 
# BENVOLIO	Why, what is Tybalt?
# 
# MERCUTIO	More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is
# 	the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as
# 	you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and
# 	proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and
# 	the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk
# 	button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the
# 	very first house, of the first and second cause:
# 	ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the
# 	hai!
# 
# BENVOLIO	The what?
# 
# MERCUTIO	The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting
# 	fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu,
# 	a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good
# 	whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing,
# 	grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with
# 	these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these
# 	perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form,
# 	that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their
# 	bones, their bones!
# 
# 	[Enter ROMEO]
# 
# BENVOLIO	Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh,
# 	how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers
# 	that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a
# 	kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to
# 	be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy;
# 	Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey
# 	eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior
# 	Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation
# 	to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit
# 	fairly last night.
# 
# ROMEO	Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you?
# 
# MERCUTIO	The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive?
# 
# ROMEO	Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in
# 	such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy.
# 
# MERCUTIO	That's as much as to say, such a case as yours
# 	constrains a man to bow in the hams.
# 
# ROMEO	Meaning, to court'sy.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Thou hast most kindly hit it.
# 
# ROMEO	A most courteous exposition.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy.
# 
# ROMEO	Pink for flower.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Right.
# 
# ROMEO	Why, then is my pump well flowered.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast
# 	worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it
# 	is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular.
# 
# ROMEO	O single-soled jest, solely singular for the
# 	singleness.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint.
# 
# ROMEO	Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have
# 	done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of
# 	thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five:
# 	was I with you there for the goose?
# 
# ROMEO	Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast
# 	not there for the goose.
# 
# MERCUTIO	I will bite thee by the ear for that jest.
# 
# ROMEO	Nay, good goose, bite not.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most
# 	sharp sauce.
# 
# ROMEO	And is it not well served in to a sweet goose?
# 
# MERCUTIO	O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an
# 	inch narrow to an ell broad!
# 
# ROMEO	I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added
# 	to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Why, is not this better now than groaning for love?
# 	now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art
# 	thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature:
# 	for this drivelling love is like a great natural,
# 	that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Stop there, stop there.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large.
# 
# MERCUTIO	O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short:
# 	for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and
# 	meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer.
# 
# ROMEO	Here's goodly gear!
# 
# 	[Enter Nurse and PETER]
# 
# MERCUTIO	A sail, a sail!
# 
# BENVOLIO	Two, two; a shirt and a smock.
# 
# Nurse	Peter!
# 
# PETER	Anon!
# 
# Nurse	My fan, Peter.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the
# 	fairer face.
# 
# Nurse	God ye good morrow, gentlemen.
# 
# MERCUTIO	God ye good den, fair gentlewoman.
# 
# Nurse	Is it good den?
# 
# MERCUTIO	'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the
# 	dial is now upon the prick of noon.
# 
# Nurse	Out upon you! what a man are you!
# 
# ROMEO	One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to
# 	mar.
# 
# Nurse	By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,'
# 	quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I
# 	may find the young Romeo?
# 
# ROMEO	I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when
# 	you have found him than he was when you sought him:
# 	I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse.
# 
# Nurse	You say well.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith;
# 	wisely, wisely.
# 
# Nurse	if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with
# 	you.
# 
# BENVOLIO	She will indite him to some supper.
# 
# MERCUTIO	A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho!
# 
# ROMEO	What hast thou found?
# 
# MERCUTIO	No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie,
# 	that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.
# 
# 	[Sings]
# 
# 	An old hare hoar,
# 	And an old hare hoar,
# 	Is very good meat in lent
# 	But a hare that is hoar
# 	Is too much for a score,
# 	When it hoars ere it be spent.
# 	Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll
# 	to dinner, thither.
# 
# ROMEO	I will follow you.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Farewell, ancient lady; farewell,
# 
# 	[Singing]
# 
# 	'lady, lady, lady.'
# 
# 	[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO]
# 
# Nurse	Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy
# 	merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery?
# 
# ROMEO	A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk,
# 	and will speak more in a minute than he will stand
# 	to in a month.
# 
# Nurse	An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him
# 	down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such
# 	Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall.
# 	Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am
# 	none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by
# 	too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure?
# 
# PETER	I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon
# 	should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare
# 	draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a
# 	good quarrel, and the law on my side.
# 
# Nurse	Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about
# 	me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word:
# 	and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you
# 	out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself:
# 	but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into
# 	a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross
# 	kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman
# 	is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double
# 	with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered
# 	to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing.
# 
# ROMEO	Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I
# 	protest unto thee--
# 
# Nurse	Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much:
# 	Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman.
# 
# ROMEO	What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me.
# 
# Nurse	I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as
# 	I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer.
# 
# ROMEO	Bid her devise
# 	Some means to come to shrift this afternoon;
# 	And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell
# 	Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains.
# 
# Nurse	No truly sir; not a penny.
# 
# ROMEO	Go to; I say you shall.
# 
# Nurse	This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there.
# 
# ROMEO	And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall:
# 	Within this hour my man shall be with thee
# 	And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair;
# 	Which to the high top-gallant of my joy
# 	Must be my convoy in the secret night.
# 	Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains:
# 	Farewell; commend me to thy mistress.
# 
# Nurse	Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir.
# 
# ROMEO	What say'st thou, my dear nurse?
# 
# Nurse	Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say,
# 	Two may keep counsel, putting one away?
# 
# ROMEO	I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel.
# 
# NURSE	Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord,
# 	Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:--O, there
# 	is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain
# 	lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief
# 	see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her
# 	sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer
# 	man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks
# 	as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not
# 	rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter?
# 
# ROMEO	Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R.
# 
# Nurse	Ah. mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for
# 	the--No; I know it begins with some other
# 	letter:--and she hath the prettiest sententious of
# 	it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good
# 	to hear it.
# 
# ROMEO	Commend me to thy lady.
# 
# Nurse	Ay, a thousand times.
# 
# 	[Exit Romeo]
# 	Peter!
# 
# PETER	Anon!
# 
# Nurse	Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT II
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE V	Capulet's orchard.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter JULIET]
# 
# JULIET	The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse;
# 	In half an hour she promised to return.
# 	Perchance she cannot meet him: that's not so.
# 	O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts,
# 	Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams,
# 	Driving back shadows over louring hills:
# 	Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love,
# 	And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings.
# 	Now is the sun upon the highmost hill
# 	Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve
# 	Is three long hours, yet she is not come.
# 	Had she affections and warm youthful blood,
# 	She would be as swift in motion as a ball;
# 	My words would bandy her to my sweet love,
# 	And his to me:
# 	But old folks, many feign as they were dead;
# 	Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead.
# 	O God, she comes!
# 
# 	[Enter Nurse and PETER]
# 
# 	O honey nurse, what news?
# 	Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away.
# 
# Nurse	Peter, stay at the gate.
# 
# 	[Exit PETER]
# 
# JULIET	Now, good sweet nurse,--O Lord, why look'st thou sad?
# 	Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily;
# 	If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news
# 	By playing it to me with so sour a face.
# 
# Nurse	I am a-weary, give me leave awhile:
# 	Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had!
# 
# JULIET	I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news:
# 	Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak.
# 
# Nurse	Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile?
# 	Do you not see that I am out of breath?
# 
# JULIET	How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath
# 	To say to me that thou art out of breath?
# 	The excuse that thou dost make in this delay
# 	Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse.
# 	Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that;
# 	Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance:
# 	Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad?
# 
# Nurse	Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not
# 	how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his
# 	face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels
# 	all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body,
# 	though they be not to be talked on, yet they are
# 	past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy,
# 	but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy
# 	ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home?
# 
# JULIET	No, no: but all this did I know before.
# 	What says he of our marriage? what of that?
# 
# Nurse	Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I!
# 	It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces.
# 	My back o' t' other side,--O, my back, my back!
# 	Beshrew your heart for sending me about,
# 	To catch my death with jaunting up and down!
# 
# JULIET	I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well.
# 	Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love?
# 
# Nurse	Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a
# 	courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I
# 	warrant, a virtuous,--Where is your mother?
# 
# JULIET	Where is my mother! why, she is within;
# 	Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest!
# 	'Your love says, like an honest gentleman,
# 	Where is your mother?'
# 
# Nurse	O God's lady dear!
# 	Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow;
# 	Is this the poultice for my aching bones?
# 	Henceforward do your messages yourself.
# 
# JULIET	Here's such a coil! come, what says Romeo?
# 
# Nurse	Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day?
# 
# JULIET	I have.
# 
# Nurse	Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell;
# 	There stays a husband to make you a wife:
# 	Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks,
# 	They'll be in scarlet straight at any news.
# 	Hie you to church; I must another way,
# 	To fetch a ladder, by the which your love
# 	Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark:
# 	I am the drudge and toil in your delight,
# 	But you shall bear the burden soon at night.
# 	Go; I'll to dinner: hie you to the cell.
# 
# JULIET	Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT II
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE VI	Friar Laurence's cell.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO]
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	So smile the heavens upon this holy act,
# 	That after hours with sorrow chide us not!
# 
# ROMEO	Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can,
# 	It cannot countervail the exchange of joy
# 	That one short minute gives me in her sight:
# 	Do thou but close our hands with holy words,
# 	Then love-devouring death do what he dare;
# 	It is enough I may but call her mine.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	These violent delights have violent ends
# 	And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
# 	Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey
# 	Is loathsome in his own deliciousness
# 	And in the taste confounds the appetite:
# 	Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;
# 	Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow.
# 
# 	[Enter JULIET]
# 
# 	Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot
# 	Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint:
# 	A lover may bestride the gossamer
# 	That idles in the wanton summer air,
# 	And yet not fall; so light is vanity.
# 
# JULIET	Good even to my ghostly confessor.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both.
# 
# JULIET	As much to him, else is his thanks too much.
# 
# ROMEO	Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy
# 	Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more
# 	To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath
# 	This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue
# 	Unfold the imagined happiness that both
# 	Receive in either by this dear encounter.
# 
# JULIET	Conceit, more rich in matter than in words,
# 	Brags of his substance, not of ornament:
# 	They are but beggars that can count their worth;
# 	But my true love is grown to such excess
# 	I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Come, come with me, and we will make short work;
# 	For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone
# 	Till holy church incorporate two in one.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT III
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE I	A public place.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants]
# 
# BENVOLIO	I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire:
# 	The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,
# 	And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl;
# 	For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Thou art like one of those fellows that when he
# 	enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword
# 	upon the table and says 'God send me no need of
# 	thee!' and by the operation of the second cup draws
# 	it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Am I like such a fellow?
# 
# MERCUTIO	Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as
# 	any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as
# 	soon moody to be moved.
# 
# BENVOLIO	And what to?
# 
# MERCUTIO	Nay, an there were two such, we should have none
# 	shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why,
# 	thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more,
# 	or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast: thou
# 	wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no
# 	other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: what
# 	eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel?
# 	Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of
# 	meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as
# 	an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a
# 	man for coughing in the street, because he hath
# 	wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun:
# 	didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing
# 	his new doublet before Easter? with another, for
# 	tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou
# 	wilt tutor me from quarrelling!
# 
# BENVOLIO	An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man
# 	should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter.
# 
# MERCUTIO	The fee-simple! O simple!
# 
# BENVOLIO	By my head, here come the Capulets.
# 
# MERCUTIO	By my heel, I care not.
# 
# 	[Enter TYBALT and others]
# 
# TYBALT	Follow me close, for I will speak to them.
# 	Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you.
# 
# MERCUTIO	And but one word with one of us? couple it with
# 	something; make it a word and a blow.
# 
# TYBALT	You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you
# 	will give me occasion.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Could you not take some occasion without giving?
# 
# TYBALT	Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,--
# 
# MERCUTIO	Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an
# 	thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but
# 	discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall
# 	make you dance. 'Zounds, consort!
# 
# BENVOLIO	We talk here in the public haunt of men:
# 	Either withdraw unto some private place,
# 	And reason coldly of your grievances,
# 	Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze;
# 	I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I.
# 
# 	[Enter ROMEO]
# 
# TYBALT	Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man.
# 
# MERCUTIO	But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery:
# 	Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower;
# 	Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.'
# 
# TYBALT	Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford
# 	No better term than this,--thou art a villain.
# 
# ROMEO	Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee
# 	Doth much excuse the appertaining rage
# 	To such a greeting: villain am I none;
# 	Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not.
# 
# TYBALT	Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries
# 	That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw.
# 
# ROMEO	I do protest, I never injured thee,
# 	But love thee better than thou canst devise,
# 	Till thou shalt know the reason of my love:
# 	And so, good Capulet,--which name I tender
# 	As dearly as my own,--be satisfied.
# 
# MERCUTIO	O calm, dishonourable, vile submission!
# 	Alla stoccata carries it away.
# 
# 	[Draws]
# 
# 	Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?
# 
# TYBALT	What wouldst thou have with me?
# 
# MERCUTIO	Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine
# 	lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as you
# 	shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the
# 	eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher
# 	by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your
# 	ears ere it be out.
# 
# TYBALT	I am for you.
# 
# 	[Drawing]
# 
# ROMEO	Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Come, sir, your passado.
# 
# 	[They fight]
# 
# ROMEO	Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons.
# 	Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage!
# 	Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath
# 	Forbidden bandying in Verona streets:
# 	Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio!
# 
# 	[TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies
# 	with his followers]
# 
# MERCUTIO	I am hurt.
# 	A plague o' both your houses! I am sped.
# 	Is he gone, and hath nothing?
# 
# BENVOLIO	What, art thou hurt?
# 
# MERCUTIO	Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough.
# 	Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon.
# 
# 	[Exit Page]
# 
# ROMEO	Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much.
# 
# MERCUTIO	No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a
# 	church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for
# 	me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I
# 	am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o'
# 	both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a
# 	cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a
# 	rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of
# 	arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I
# 	was hurt under your arm.
# 
# ROMEO	I thought all for the best.
# 
# MERCUTIO	Help me into some house, Benvolio,
# 	Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses!
# 	They have made worms' meat of me: I have it,
# 	And soundly too: your houses!
# 
# 	[Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO]
# 
# ROMEO	This gentleman, the prince's near ally,
# 	My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt
# 	In my behalf; my reputation stain'd
# 	With Tybalt's slander,--Tybalt, that an hour
# 	Hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet,
# 	Thy beauty hath made me effeminate
# 	And in my temper soften'd valour's steel!
# 
# 	[Re-enter BENVOLIO]
# 
# BENVOLIO	O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead!
# 	That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds,
# 	Which too untimely here did scorn the earth.
# 
# ROMEO	This day's black fate on more days doth depend;
# 	This but begins the woe, others must end.
# 
# BENVOLIO	Here comes the furious Tybalt back again.
# 
# ROMEO	Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain!
# 	Away to heaven, respective lenity,
# 	And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now!
# 
# 	[Re-enter TYBALT]
# 
# 	Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again,
# 	That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul
# 	Is but a little way above our heads,
# 	Staying for thine to keep him company:
# 	Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him.
# 
# TYBALT	Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here,
# 	Shalt with him hence.
# 
# ROMEO	This shall determine that.
# 
# 	[They fight; TYBALT falls]
# 
# BENVOLIO	Romeo, away, be gone!
# 	The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain.
# 	Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death,
# 	If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away!
# 
# ROMEO	O, I am fortune's fool!
# 
# BENVOLIO	Why dost thou stay?
# 
# 	[Exit ROMEO]
# 
# 	[Enter Citizens, &c]
# 
# First Citizen	Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio?
# 	Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he?
# 
# BENVOLIO	There lies that Tybalt.
# 
# First Citizen	Up, sir, go with me;
# 	I charge thee in the princes name, obey.
# 
# 	[Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their
# 	Wives, and others]
# 
# PRINCE	Where are the vile beginners of this fray?
# 
# BENVOLIO	O noble prince, I can discover all
# 	The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl:
# 	There lies the man, slain by young Romeo,
# 	That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child!
# 	O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt
# 	O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true,
# 	For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague.
# 	O cousin, cousin!
# 
# PRINCE	Benvolio, who began this bloody fray?
# 
# BENVOLIO	Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay;
# 	Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink
# 	How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal
# 	Your high displeasure: all this uttered
# 	With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd,
# 	Could not take truce with the unruly spleen
# 	Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts
# 	With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast,
# 	Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point,
# 	And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats
# 	Cold death aside, and with the other sends
# 	It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity,
# 	Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud,
# 	'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter than
# 	his tongue,
# 	His agile arm beats down their fatal points,
# 	And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm
# 	An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life
# 	Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled;
# 	But by and by comes back to Romeo,
# 	Who had but newly entertain'd revenge,
# 	And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I
# 	Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain.
# 	And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly.
# 	This is the truth, or let Benvolio die.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	He is a kinsman to the Montague;
# 	Affection makes him false; he speaks not true:
# 	Some twenty of them fought in this black strife,
# 	And all those twenty could but kill one life.
# 	I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give;
# 	Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live.
# 
# PRINCE	Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio;
# 	Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe?
# 
# MONTAGUE	Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend;
# 	His fault concludes but what the law should end,
# 	The life of Tybalt.
# 
# PRINCE	And for that offence
# 	Immediately we do exile him hence:
# 	I have an interest in your hate's proceeding,
# 	My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding;
# 	But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine
# 	That you shall all repent the loss of mine:
# 	I will be deaf to pleading and excuses;
# 	Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses:
# 	Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste,
# 	Else, when he's found, that hour is his last.
# 	Bear hence this body and attend our will:
# 	Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT III
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE II	Capulet's orchard.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter JULIET]
# 
# JULIET	Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds,
# 	Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner
# 	As Phaethon would whip you to the west,
# 	And bring in cloudy night immediately.
# 	Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night,
# 	That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo
# 	Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen.
# 	Lovers can see to do their amorous rites
# 	By their own beauties; or, if love be blind,
# 	It best agrees with night. Come, civil night,
# 	Thou sober-suited matron, all in black,
# 	And learn me how to lose a winning match,
# 	Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods:
# 	Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks,
# 	With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold,
# 	Think true love acted simple modesty.
# 	Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
# 	For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
# 	Whiter than new snow on a raven's back.
# 	Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,
# 	Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
# 	Take him and cut him out in little stars,
# 	And he will make the face of heaven so fine
# 	That all the world will be in love with night
# 	And pay no worship to the garish sun.
# 	O, I have bought the mansion of a love,
# 	But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold,
# 	Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day
# 	As is the night before some festival
# 	To an impatient child that hath new robes
# 	And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse,
# 	And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks
# 	But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence.
# 
# 	[Enter Nurse, with cords]
# 
# 	Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords
# 	That Romeo bid thee fetch?
# 
# Nurse	Ay, ay, the cords.
# 
# 	[Throws them down]
# 
# JULIET	Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands?
# 
# Nurse	Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead!
# 	We are undone, lady, we are undone!
# 	Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead!
# 
# JULIET	Can heaven be so envious?
# 
# Nurse	Romeo can,
# 	Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo!
# 	Who ever would have thought it? Romeo!
# 
# JULIET	What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus?
# 	This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell.
# 	Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,'
# 	And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more
# 	Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice:
# 	I am not I, if there be such an I;
# 	Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.'
# 	If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no:
# 	Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe.
# 
# Nurse	I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,--
# 	God save the mark!--here on his manly breast:
# 	A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse;
# 	Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood,
# 	All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight.
# 
# JULIET	O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once!
# 	To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty!
# 	Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here;
# 	And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier!
# 
# Nurse	O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had!
# 	O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman!
# 	That ever I should live to see thee dead!
# 
# JULIET	What storm is this that blows so contrary?
# 	Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead?
# 	My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord?
# 	Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom!
# 	For who is living, if those two are gone?
# 
# Nurse	Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished;
# 	Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished.
# 
# JULIET	O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood?
# 
# Nurse	It did, it did; alas the day, it did!
# 
# JULIET	O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!
# 	Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?
# 	Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical!
# 	Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb!
# 	Despised substance of divinest show!
# 	Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,
# 	A damned saint, an honourable villain!
# 	O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,
# 	When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend
# 	In moral paradise of such sweet flesh?
# 	Was ever book containing such vile matter
# 	So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell
# 	In such a gorgeous palace!
# 
# Nurse	There's no trust,
# 	No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured,
# 	All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers.
# 	Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae:
# 	These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old.
# 	Shame come to Romeo!
# 
# JULIET	Blister'd be thy tongue
# 	For such a wish! he was not born to shame:
# 	Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit;
# 	For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd
# 	Sole monarch of the universal earth.
# 	O, what a beast was I to chide at him!
# 
# Nurse	Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin?
# 
# JULIET	Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?
# 	Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name,
# 	When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it?
# 	But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin?
# 	That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband:
# 	Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring;
# 	Your tributary drops belong to woe,
# 	Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy.
# 	My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain;
# 	And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband:
# 	All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then?
# 	Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death,
# 	That murder'd me: I would forget it fain;
# 	But, O, it presses to my memory,
# 	Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds:
# 	'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished;'
# 	That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,'
# 	Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death
# 	Was woe enough, if it had ended there:
# 	Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship
# 	And needly will be rank'd with other griefs,
# 	Why follow'd not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,'
# 	Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both,
# 	Which modern lamentations might have moved?
# 	But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death,
# 	'Romeo is banished,' to speak that word,
# 	Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet,
# 	All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!'
# 	There is no end, no limit, measure, bound,
# 	In that word's death; no words can that woe sound.
# 	Where is my father, and my mother, nurse?
# 
# Nurse	Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse:
# 	Will you go to them? I will bring you thither.
# 
# JULIET	Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent,
# 	When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment.
# 	Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled,
# 	Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled:
# 	He made you for a highway to my bed;
# 	But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed.
# 	Come, cords, come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed;
# 	And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead!
# 
# Nurse	Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo
# 	To comfort you: I wot well where he is.
# 	Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night:
# 	I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell.
# 
# JULIET	O, find him! give this ring to my true knight,
# 	And bid him come to take his last farewell.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT III
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE III	Friar Laurence's cell.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE]
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man:
# 	Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts,
# 	And thou art wedded to calamity.
# 
# 	[Enter ROMEO]
# 
# ROMEO	Father, what news? what is the prince's doom?
# 	What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand,
# 	That I yet know not?
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Too familiar
# 	Is my dear son with such sour company:
# 	I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom.
# 
# ROMEO	What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom?
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips,
# 	Not body's death, but body's banishment.
# 
# ROMEO	Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;'
# 	For exile hath more terror in his look,
# 	Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.'
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Hence from Verona art thou banished:
# 	Be patient, for the world is broad and wide.
# 
# ROMEO	There is no world without Verona walls,
# 	But purgatory, torture, hell itself.
# 	Hence-banished is banish'd from the world,
# 	And world's exile is death: then banished,
# 	Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment,
# 	Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe,
# 	And smilest upon the stroke that murders me.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness!
# 	Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince,
# 	Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law,
# 	And turn'd that black word death to banishment:
# 	This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not.
# 
# ROMEO	'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here,
# 	Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog
# 	And little mouse, every unworthy thing,
# 	Live here in heaven and may look on her;
# 	But Romeo may not: more validity,
# 	More honourable state, more courtship lives
# 	In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize
# 	On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand
# 	And steal immortal blessing from her lips,
# 	Who even in pure and vestal modesty,
# 	Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin;
# 	But Romeo may not; he is banished:
# 	Flies may do this, but I from this must fly:
# 	They are free men, but I am banished.
# 	And say'st thou yet that exile is not death?
# 	Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife,
# 	No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean,
# 	But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'?
# 	O friar, the damned use that word in hell;
# 	Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart,
# 	Being a divine, a ghostly confessor,
# 	A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd,
# 	To mangle me with that word 'banished'?
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word.
# 
# ROMEO	O, thou wilt speak again of banishment.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	I'll give thee armour to keep off that word:
# 	Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy,
# 	To comfort thee, though thou art banished.
# 
# ROMEO	Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy!
# 	Unless philosophy can make a Juliet,
# 	Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom,
# 	It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	O, then I see that madmen have no ears.
# 
# ROMEO	How should they, when that wise men have no eyes?
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Let me dispute with thee of thy estate.
# 
# ROMEO	Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel:
# 	Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love,
# 	An hour but married, Tybalt murdered,
# 	Doting like me and like me banished,
# 	Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair,
# 	And fall upon the ground, as I do now,
# 	Taking the measure of an unmade grave.
# 
# 	[Knocking within]
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself.
# 
# ROMEO	Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans,
# 	Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes.
# 
# 	[Knocking]
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise;
# 	Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up;
# 
# 	[Knocking]
# 
# 	Run to my study. By and by! God's will,
# 	What simpleness is this! I come, I come!
# 
# 	[Knocking]
# 
# 	Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will?
# 
# Nurse	[Within]  Let me come in, and you shall know
# 	my errand;
# 	I come from Lady Juliet.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Welcome, then.
# 
# 	[Enter Nurse]
# 
# Nurse	O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar,
# 	Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo?
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk.
# 
# Nurse	O, he is even in my mistress' case,
# 	Just in her case! O woful sympathy!
# 	Piteous predicament! Even so lies she,
# 	Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering.
# 	Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man:
# 	For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand;
# 	Why should you fall into so deep an O?
# 
# ROMEO	Nurse!
# 
# Nurse	Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all.
# 
# ROMEO	Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her?
# 	Doth she not think me an old murderer,
# 	Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy
# 	With blood removed but little from her own?
# 	Where is she? and how doth she? and what says
# 	My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love?
# 
# Nurse	O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps;
# 	And now falls on her bed; and then starts up,
# 	And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries,
# 	And then down falls again.
# 
# ROMEO	As if that name,
# 	Shot from the deadly level of a gun,
# 	Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand
# 	Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me,
# 	In what vile part of this anatomy
# 	Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack
# 	The hateful mansion.
# 
# 	[Drawing his sword]
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Hold thy desperate hand:
# 	Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art:
# 	Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote
# 	The unreasonable fury of a beast:
# 	Unseemly woman in a seeming man!
# 	Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both!
# 	Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order,
# 	I thought thy disposition better temper'd.
# 	Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself?
# 	And stay thy lady too that lives in thee,
# 	By doing damned hate upon thyself?
# 	Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth?
# 	Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet
# 	In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose.
# 	Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit;
# 	Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all,
# 	And usest none in that true use indeed
# 	Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit:
# 	Thy noble shape is but a form of wax,
# 	Digressing from the valour of a man;
# 	Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury,
# 	Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish;
# 	Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love,
# 	Misshapen in the conduct of them both,
# 	Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask,
# 	Is set afire by thine own ignorance,
# 	And thou dismember'd with thine own defence.
# 	What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
# 	For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;
# 	There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee,
# 	But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too:
# 	The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend
# 	And turns it to exile; there art thou happy:
# 	A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back;
# 	Happiness courts thee in her best array;
# 	But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,
# 	Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love:
# 	Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.
# 	Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed,
# 	Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her:
# 	But look thou stay not till the watch be set,
# 	For then thou canst not pass to Mantua;
# 	Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time
# 	To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends,
# 	Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back
# 	With twenty hundred thousand times more joy
# 	Than thou went'st forth in lamentation.
# 	Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady;
# 	And bid her hasten all the house to bed,
# 	Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto:
# 	Romeo is coming.
# 
# Nurse	O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night
# 	To hear good counsel: O, what learning is!
# 	My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come.
# 
# ROMEO	Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide.
# 
# Nurse	Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir:
# 	Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# ROMEO	How well my comfort is revived by this!
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state:
# 	Either be gone before the watch be set,
# 	Or by the break of day disguised from hence:
# 	Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man,
# 	And he shall signify from time to time
# 	Every good hap to you that chances here:
# 	Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night.
# 
# ROMEO	But that a joy past joy calls out on me,
# 	It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT III
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE IV	A room in Capulet's house.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS]
# 
# CAPULET	Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily,
# 	That we have had no time to move our daughter:
# 	Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly,
# 	And so did I:--Well, we were born to die.
# 	'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night:
# 	I promise you, but for your company,
# 	I would have been a-bed an hour ago.
# 
# PARIS	These times of woe afford no time to woo.
# 	Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	I will, and know her mind early to-morrow;
# 	To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness.
# 
# CAPULET	Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender
# 	Of my child's love: I think she will be ruled
# 	In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not.
# 	Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed;
# 	Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love;
# 	And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next--
# 	But, soft! what day is this?
# 
# PARIS	Monday, my lord,
# 
# CAPULET	Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon,
# 	O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her,
# 	She shall be married to this noble earl.
# 	Will you be ready? do you like this haste?
# 	We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two;
# 	For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late,
# 	It may be thought we held him carelessly,
# 	Being our kinsman, if we revel much:
# 	Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends,
# 	And there an end. But what say you to Thursday?
# 
# PARIS	My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow.
# 
# CAPULET	Well get you gone: o' Thursday be it, then.
# 	Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed,
# 	Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day.
# 	Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho!
# 	Afore me! it is so very very late,
# 	That we may call it early by and by.
# 	Good night.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT III
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE V	Capulet's orchard.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window]
# 
# JULIET	Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day:
# 	It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
# 	That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;
# 	Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree:
# 	Believe me, love, it was the nightingale.
# 
# ROMEO	It was the lark, the herald of the morn,
# 	No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks
# 	Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east:
# 	Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day
# 	Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops.
# 	I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
# 
# JULIET	Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I:
# 	It is some meteor that the sun exhales,
# 	To be to thee this night a torch-bearer,
# 	And light thee on thy way to Mantua:
# 	Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone.
# 
# ROMEO	Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death;
# 	I am content, so thou wilt have it so.
# 	I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye,
# 	'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow;
# 	Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat
# 	The vaulty heaven so high above our heads:
# 	I have more care to stay than will to go:
# 	Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so.
# 	How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day.
# 
# JULIET	It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away!
# 	It is the lark that sings so out of tune,
# 	Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps.
# 	Some say the lark makes sweet division;
# 	This doth not so, for she divideth us:
# 	Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes,
# 	O, now I would they had changed voices too!
# 	Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray,
# 	Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day,
# 	O, now be gone; more light and light it grows.
# 
# ROMEO	More light and light; more dark and dark our woes!
# 
# 	[Enter Nurse, to the chamber]
# 
# Nurse	Madam!
# 
# JULIET	Nurse?
# 
# Nurse	Your lady mother is coming to your chamber:
# 	The day is broke; be wary, look about.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# JULIET	Then, window, let day in, and let life out.
# 
# ROMEO	Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend.
# 
# 	[He goeth down]
# 
# JULIET	Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend!
# 	I must hear from thee every day in the hour,
# 	For in a minute there are many days:
# 	O, by this count I shall be much in years
# 	Ere I again behold my Romeo!
# 
# ROMEO	Farewell!
# 	I will omit no opportunity
# 	That may convey my greetings, love, to thee.
# 
# JULIET	O think'st thou we shall ever meet again?
# 
# ROMEO	I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve
# 	For sweet discourses in our time to come.
# 
# JULIET	O God, I have an ill-divining soul!
# 	Methinks I see thee, now thou art below,
# 	As one dead in the bottom of a tomb:
# 	Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale.
# 
# ROMEO	And trust me, love, in my eye so do you:
# 	Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu!
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# JULIET	O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle:
# 	If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him.
# 	That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune;
# 	For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long,
# 	But send him back.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	[Within]         Ho, daughter! are you up?
# 
# JULIET	Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother?
# 	Is she not down so late, or up so early?
# 	What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither?
# 
# 	[Enter LADY CAPULET]
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Why, how now, Juliet!
# 
# JULIET	Madam, I am not well.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Evermore weeping for your cousin's death?
# 	What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears?
# 	An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live;
# 	Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love;
# 	But much of grief shows still some want of wit.
# 
# JULIET	Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend
# 	Which you weep for.
# 
# JULIET	Feeling so the loss,
# 	Cannot choose but ever weep the friend.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death,
# 	As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him.
# 
# JULIET	What villain madam?
# 
# LADY CAPULET	That same villain, Romeo.
# 
# JULIET	[Aside]  Villain and he be many miles asunder.--
# 	God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart;
# 	And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	That is, because the traitor murderer lives.
# 
# JULIET	Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands:
# 	Would none but I might venge my cousin's death!
# 
# LADY CAPULET	We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not:
# 	Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua,
# 	Where that same banish'd runagate doth live,
# 	Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram,
# 	That he shall soon keep Tybalt company:
# 	And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied.
# 
# JULIET	Indeed, I never shall be satisfied
# 	With Romeo, till I behold him--dead--
# 	Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd.
# 	Madam, if you could find out but a man
# 	To bear a poison, I would temper it;
# 	That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,
# 	Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors
# 	To hear him named, and cannot come to him.
# 	To wreak the love I bore my cousin
# 	Upon his body that slaughter'd him!
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man.
# 	But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl.
# 
# JULIET	And joy comes well in such a needy time:
# 	What are they, I beseech your ladyship?
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child;
# 	One who, to put thee from thy heaviness,
# 	Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy,
# 	That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for.
# 
# JULIET	Madam, in happy time, what day is that?
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn,
# 	The gallant, young and noble gentleman,
# 	The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church,
# 	Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride.
# 
# JULIET	Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too,
# 	He shall not make me there a joyful bride.
# 	I wonder at this haste; that I must wed
# 	Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo.
# 	I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam,
# 	I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear,
# 	It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate,
# 	Rather than Paris. These are news indeed!
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Here comes your father; tell him so yourself,
# 	And see how he will take it at your hands.
# 
# 	[Enter CAPULET and Nurse]
# 
# CAPULET	When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew;
# 	But for the sunset of my brother's son
# 	It rains downright.
# 	How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?
# 	Evermore showering? In one little body
# 	Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind;
# 	For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
# 	Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,
# 	Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs;
# 	Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them,
# 	Without a sudden calm, will overset
# 	Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife!
# 	Have you deliver'd to her our decree?
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.
# 	I would the fool were married to her grave!
# 
# CAPULET	Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.
# 	How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks?
# 	Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest,
# 	Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
# 	So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?
# 
# JULIET	Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have:
# 	Proud can I never be of what I hate;
# 	But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.
# 
# CAPULET	How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this?
# 	'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;'
# 	And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you,
# 	Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds,
# 	But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next,
# 	To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,
# 	Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
# 	Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage!
# 	You tallow-face!
# 
# LADY CAPULET	                  Fie, fie! what, are you mad?
# 
# JULIET	Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
# 	Hear me with patience but to speak a word.
# 
# CAPULET	Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!
# 	I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday,
# 	Or never after look me in the face:
# 	Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;
# 	My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest
# 	That God had lent us but this only child;
# 	But now I see this one is one too much,
# 	And that we have a curse in having her:
# 	Out on her, hilding!
# 
# Nurse	God in heaven bless her!
# 	You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.
# 
# CAPULET	And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue,
# 	Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.
# 
# Nurse	I speak no treason.
# 
# CAPULET	O, God ye god-den.
# 
# Nurse	May not one speak?
# 
# CAPULET	                  Peace, you mumbling fool!
# 	Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl;
# 	For here we need it not.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	You are too hot.
# 
# CAPULET	God's bread! it makes me mad:
# 	Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,
# 	Alone, in company, still my care hath been
# 	To have her match'd: and having now provided
# 	A gentleman of noble parentage,
# 	Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
# 	Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,
# 	Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man;
# 	And then to have a wretched puling fool,
# 	A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
# 	To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love,
# 	I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.'
# 	But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you:
# 	Graze where you will you shall not house with me:
# 	Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest.
# 	Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise:
# 	An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;
# 	And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in
# 	the streets,
# 	For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
# 	Nor what is mine shall never do thee good:
# 	Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# JULIET	Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
# 	That sees into the bottom of my grief?
# 	O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!
# 	Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
# 	Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed
# 	In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:
# 	Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# JULIET	O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented?
# 	My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven;
# 	How shall that faith return again to earth,
# 	Unless that husband send it me from heaven
# 	By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me.
# 	Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems
# 	Upon so soft a subject as myself!
# 	What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy?
# 	Some comfort, nurse.
# 
# Nurse	Faith, here it is.
# 	Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing,
# 	That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you;
# 	Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth.
# 	Then, since the case so stands as now it doth,
# 	I think it best you married with the county.
# 	O, he's a lovely gentleman!
# 	Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam,
# 	Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye
# 	As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart,
# 	I think you are happy in this second match,
# 	For it excels your first: or if it did not,
# 	Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were,
# 	As living here and you no use of him.
# 
# JULIET	Speakest thou from thy heart?
# 
# Nurse	And from my soul too;
# 	Or else beshrew them both.
# 
# JULIET	Amen!
# 
# Nurse	What?
# 
# JULIET	Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much.
# 	Go in: and tell my lady I am gone,
# 	Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell,
# 	To make confession and to be absolved.
# 
# Nurse	Marry, I will; and this is wisely done.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# JULIET	Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend!
# 	Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn,
# 	Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue
# 	Which she hath praised him with above compare
# 	So many thousand times? Go, counsellor;
# 	Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain.
# 	I'll to the friar, to know his remedy:
# 	If all else fail, myself have power to die.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT IV
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE I	Friar Laurence's cell.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS]
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	On Thursday, sir? the time is very short.
# 
# PARIS	My father Capulet will have it so;
# 	And I am nothing slow to slack his haste.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	You say you do not know the lady's mind:
# 	Uneven is the course, I like it not.
# 
# PARIS	Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death,
# 	And therefore have I little talk'd of love;
# 	For Venus smiles not in a house of tears.
# 	Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous
# 	That she doth give her sorrow so much sway,
# 	And in his wisdom hastes our marriage,
# 	To stop the inundation of her tears;
# 	Which, too much minded by herself alone,
# 	May be put from her by society:
# 	Now do you know the reason of this haste.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	[Aside]  I would I knew not why it should be slow'd.
# 	Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell.
# 
# 	[Enter JULIET]
# 
# PARIS	Happily met, my lady and my wife!
# 
# JULIET	That may be, sir, when I may be a wife.
# 
# PARIS	That may be must be, love, on Thursday next.
# 
# JULIET	What must be shall be.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	That's a certain text.
# 
# PARIS	Come you to make confession to this father?
# 
# JULIET	To answer that, I should confess to you.
# 
# PARIS	Do not deny to him that you love me.
# 
# JULIET	I will confess to you that I love him.
# 
# PARIS	So will ye, I am sure, that you love me.
# 
# JULIET	If I do so, it will be of more price,
# 	Being spoke behind your back, than to your face.
# 
# PARIS	Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears.
# 
# JULIET	The tears have got small victory by that;
# 	For it was bad enough before their spite.
# 
# PARIS	Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report.
# 
# JULIET	That is no slander, sir, which is a truth;
# 	And what I spake, I spake it to my face.
# 
# PARIS	Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it.
# 
# JULIET	It may be so, for it is not mine own.
# 	Are you at leisure, holy father, now;
# 	Or shall I come to you at evening mass?
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now.
# 	My lord, we must entreat the time alone.
# 
# PARIS	God shield I should disturb devotion!
# 	Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye:
# 	Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# JULIET	O shut the door! and when thou hast done so,
# 	Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help!
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief;
# 	It strains me past the compass of my wits:
# 	I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it,
# 	On Thursday next be married to this county.
# 
# JULIET	Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this,
# 	Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it:
# 	If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help,
# 	Do thou but call my resolution wise,
# 	And with this knife I'll help it presently.
# 	God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands;
# 	And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd,
# 	Shall be the label to another deed,
# 	Or my true heart with treacherous revolt
# 	Turn to another, this shall slay them both:
# 	Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time,
# 	Give me some present counsel, or, behold,
# 	'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife
# 	Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that
# 	Which the commission of thy years and art
# 	Could to no issue of true honour bring.
# 	Be not so long to speak; I long to die,
# 	If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Hold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope,
# 	Which craves as desperate an execution.
# 	As that is desperate which we would prevent.
# 	If, rather than to marry County Paris,
# 	Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself,
# 	Then is it likely thou wilt undertake
# 	A thing like death to chide away this shame,
# 	That copest with death himself to scape from it:
# 	And, if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy.
# 
# JULIET	O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,
# 	From off the battlements of yonder tower;
# 	Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk
# 	Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears;
# 	Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house,
# 	O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones,
# 	With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls;
# 	Or bid me go into a new-made grave
# 	And hide me with a dead man in his shroud;
# 	Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble;
# 	And I will do it without fear or doubt,
# 	To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent
# 	To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow:
# 	To-morrow night look that thou lie alone;
# 	Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber:
# 	Take thou this vial, being then in bed,
# 	And this distilled liquor drink thou off;
# 	When presently through all thy veins shall run
# 	A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse
# 	Shall keep his native progress, but surcease:
# 	No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest;
# 	The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade
# 	To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall,
# 	Like death, when he shuts up the day of life;
# 	Each part, deprived of supple government,
# 	Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death:
# 	And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death
# 	Thou shalt continue two and forty hours,
# 	And then awake as from a pleasant sleep.
# 	Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes
# 	To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead:
# 	Then, as the manner of our country is,
# 	In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier
# 	Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault
# 	Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie.
# 	In the mean time, against thou shalt awake,
# 	Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift,
# 	And hither shall he come: and he and I
# 	Will watch thy waking, and that very night
# 	Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua.
# 	And this shall free thee from this present shame;
# 	If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear,
# 	Abate thy valour in the acting it.
# 
# JULIET	Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear!
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous
# 	In this resolve: I'll send a friar with speed
# 	To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord.
# 
# JULIET	Love give me strength! and strength shall help afford.
# 	Farewell, dear father!
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT IV
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE II	Hall in Capulet's house.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter CAPULET, LADY  CAPULET, Nurse, and two
# 	Servingmen]
# 
# CAPULET	So many guests invite as here are writ.
# 
# 	[Exit First Servant]
# 
# 	Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks.
# 
# Second Servant	You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they
# 	can lick their fingers.
# 
# CAPULET	How canst thou try them so?
# 
# Second Servant	Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his
# 	own fingers: therefore he that cannot lick his
# 	fingers goes not with me.
# 
# CAPULET	Go, be gone.
# 
# 	[Exit Second Servant]
# 
# 	We shall be much unfurnished for this time.
# 	What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence?
# 
# Nurse	Ay, forsooth.
# 
# CAPULET	Well, he may chance to do some good on her:
# 	A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is.
# 
# Nurse	See where she comes from shrift with merry look.
# 
# 	[Enter JULIET]
# 
# CAPULET	How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding?
# 
# JULIET	Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin
# 	Of disobedient opposition
# 	To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd
# 	By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here,
# 	And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you!
# 	Henceforward I am ever ruled by you.
# 
# CAPULET	Send for the county; go tell him of this:
# 	I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning.
# 
# JULIET	I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell;
# 	And gave him what becomed love I might,
# 	Not step o'er the bounds of modesty.
# 
# CAPULET	Why, I am glad on't; this is well: stand up:
# 	This is as't should be. Let me see the county;
# 	Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither.
# 	Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar,
# 	Our whole city is much bound to him.
# 
# JULIET	Nurse, will you go with me into my closet,
# 	To help me sort such needful ornaments
# 	As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow?
# 
# LADY CAPULET	No, not till Thursday; there is time enough.
# 
# CAPULET	Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow.
# 
# 	[Exeunt JULIET and Nurse]
# 
# LADY  CAPULET	We shall be short in our provision:
# 	'Tis now near night.
# 
# CAPULET	Tush, I will stir about,
# 	And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife:
# 	Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her;
# 	I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone;
# 	I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho!
# 	They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself
# 	To County Paris, to prepare him up
# 	Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light,
# 	Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT IV
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE III	Juliet's chamber.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter JULIET and Nurse]
# 
# JULIET	Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse,
# 	I pray thee, leave me to myself to-night,
# 	For I have need of many orisons
# 	To move the heavens to smile upon my state,
# 	Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin.
# 
# 	[Enter LADY CAPULET]
# 
# LADY CAPULET	What, are you busy, ho? need you my help?
# 
# JULIET	No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries
# 	As are behoveful for our state to-morrow:
# 	So please you, let me now be left alone,
# 	And let the nurse this night sit up with you;
# 	For, I am sure, you have your hands full all,
# 	In this so sudden business.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Good night:
# 	Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need.
# 
# 	[Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse]
# 
# JULIET	Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again.
# 	I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins,
# 	That almost freezes up the heat of life:
# 	I'll call them back again to comfort me:
# 	Nurse! What should she do here?
# 	My dismal scene I needs must act alone.
# 	Come, vial.
# 	What if this mixture do not work at all?
# 	Shall I be married then to-morrow morning?
# 	No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there.
# 
# 	[Laying down her dagger]
# 
# 	What if it be a poison, which the friar
# 	Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead,
# 	Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd,
# 	Because he married me before to Romeo?
# 	I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not,
# 	For he hath still been tried a holy man.
# 	How if, when I am laid into the tomb,
# 	I wake before the time that Romeo
# 	Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point!
# 	Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault,
# 	To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in,
# 	And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes?
# 	Or, if I live, is it not very like,
# 	The horrible conceit of death and night,
# 	Together with the terror of the place,--
# 	As in a vault, an ancient receptacle,
# 	Where, for these many hundred years, the bones
# 	Of all my buried ancestors are packed:
# 	Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth,
# 	Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say,
# 	At some hours in the night spirits resort;--
# 	Alack, alack, is it not like that I,
# 	So early waking, what with loathsome smells,
# 	And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth,
# 	That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:--
# 	O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught,
# 	Environed with all these hideous fears?
# 	And madly play with my forefather's joints?
# 	And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud?
# 	And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone,
# 	As with a club, dash out my desperate brains?
# 	O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost
# 	Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body
# 	Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay!
# 	Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee.
# 
# 	[She falls upon her bed, within the curtains]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT IV
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE IV	Hall in Capulet's house.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse]
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse.
# 
# Nurse	They call for dates and quinces in the pastry.
# 
# 	[Enter CAPULET]
# 
# CAPULET	Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd,
# 	The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock:
# 	Look to the baked meats, good Angelica:
# 	Spare not for the cost.
# 
# Nurse	Go, you cot-quean, go,
# 	Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrow
# 	For this night's watching.
# 
# CAPULET	No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere now
# 	All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick.
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time;
# 	But I will watch you from such watching now.
# 
# 	[Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse]
# 
# CAPULET	A jealous hood, a jealous hood!
# 
# 	[Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs,
# 	and baskets]
# 
# 		          Now, fellow,
# 	What's there?
# 
# First Servant	Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what.
# 
# CAPULET	Make haste, make haste.
# 
# 	[Exit First Servant]
# 
# 		  Sirrah, fetch drier logs:
# 	Call Peter, he will show thee where they are.
# 
# Second Servant	I have a head, sir, that will find out logs,
# 	And never trouble Peter for the matter.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# CAPULET	Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha!
# 	Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day:
# 	The county will be here with music straight,
# 	For so he said he would: I hear him near.
# 
# 	[Music within]
# 
# 	Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say!
# 
# 	[Re-enter Nurse]
# 
# 	Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up;
# 	I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste,
# 	Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already:
# 	Make haste, I say.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT IV
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE V	Juliet's chamber.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter Nurse]
# 
# Nurse	Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she:
# 	Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed!
# 	Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride!
# 	What, not a word? you take your pennyworths now;
# 	Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant,
# 	The County Paris hath set up his rest,
# 	That you shall rest but little. God forgive me,
# 	Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep!
# 	I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam!
# 	Ay, let the county take you in your bed;
# 	He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be?
# 
# 	[Undraws the curtains]
# 
# 	What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again!
# 	I must needs wake you; Lady! lady! lady!
# 	Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady's dead!
# 	O, well-a-day, that ever I was born!
# 	Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! my lady!
# 
# 	[Enter LADY CAPULET]
# 
# LADY CAPULET	What noise is here?
# 
# Nurse	O lamentable day!
# 
# LADY CAPULET	What is the matter?
# 
# Nurse	Look, look! O heavy day!
# 
# LADY CAPULET	O me, O me! My child, my only life,
# 	Revive, look up, or I will die with thee!
# 	Help, help! Call help.
# 
# 	[Enter CAPULET]
# 
# CAPULET	For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come.
# 
# Nurse	She's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day!
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead!
# 
# CAPULET	Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she's cold:
# 	Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff;
# 	Life and these lips have long been separated:
# 	Death lies on her like an untimely frost
# 	Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.
# 
# Nurse	O lamentable day!
# 
# LADY CAPULET	                  O woful time!
# 
# CAPULET	Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail,
# 	Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak.
# 
# 	[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians]
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Come, is the bride ready to go to church?
# 
# CAPULET	Ready to go, but never to return.
# 	O son! the night before thy wedding-day
# 	Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies,
# 	Flower as she was, deflowered by him.
# 	Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir;
# 	My daughter he hath wedded: I will die,
# 	And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's.
# 
# PARIS	Have I thought long to see this morning's face,
# 	And doth it give me such a sight as this?
# 
# LADY CAPULET	Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day!
# 	Most miserable hour that e'er time saw
# 	In lasting labour of his pilgrimage!
# 	But one, poor one, one poor and loving child,
# 	But one thing to rejoice and solace in,
# 	And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight!
# 
# Nurse	O woe! O woful, woful, woful day!
# 	Most lamentable day, most woful day,
# 	That ever, ever, I did yet behold!
# 	O day! O day! O day! O hateful day!
# 	Never was seen so black a day as this:
# 	O woful day, O woful day!
# 
# PARIS	Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain!
# 	Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd,
# 	By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown!
# 	O love! O life! not life, but love in death!
# 
# CAPULET	Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd!
# 	Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now
# 	To murder, murder our solemnity?
# 	O child! O child! my soul, and not my child!
# 	Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead;
# 	And with my child my joys are buried.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives not
# 	In these confusions. Heaven and yourself
# 	Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all,
# 	And all the better is it for the maid:
# 	Your part in her you could not keep from death,
# 	But heaven keeps his part in eternal life.
# 	The most you sought was her promotion;
# 	For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced:
# 	And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced
# 	Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself?
# 	O, in this love, you love your child so ill,
# 	That you run mad, seeing that she is well:
# 	She's not well married that lives married long;
# 	But she's best married that dies married young.
# 	Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary
# 	On this fair corse; and, as the custom is,
# 	In all her best array bear her to church:
# 	For though fond nature bids us an lament,
# 	Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment.
# 
# CAPULET	All things that we ordained festival,
# 	Turn from their office to black funeral;
# 	Our instruments to melancholy bells,
# 	Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast,
# 	Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change,
# 	Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse,
# 	And all things change them to the contrary.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him;
# 	And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare
# 	To follow this fair corse unto her grave:
# 	The heavens do lour upon you for some ill;
# 	Move them no more by crossing their high will.
# 
# 	[Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAURENCE]
# 
# First Musician	Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone.
# 
# Nurse	Honest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up;
# 	For, well you know, this is a pitiful case.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# First Musician	Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended.
# 
# 	[Enter PETER]
# 
# PETER	Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart's
# 	ease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.'
# 
# First Musician	Why 'Heart's ease?'
# 
# PETER	O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'My
# 	heart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump,
# 	to comfort me.
# 
# First Musician	Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now.
# 
# PETER	You will not, then?
# 
# First Musician	No.
# 
# PETER	I will then give it you soundly.
# 
# First Musician	What will you give us?
# 
# PETER	No money, on my faith, but the gleek;
# 	I will give you the minstrel.
# 
# First Musician	Then I will give you the serving-creature.
# 
# PETER	Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on
# 	your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you,
# 	I'll fa you; do you note me?
# 
# First Musician	An you re us and fa us, you note us.
# 
# Second Musician	Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
# 
# PETER	Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you
# 	with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer
# 	me like men:
# 	'When griping grief the heart doth wound,
# 	And doleful dumps the mind oppress,
# 	Then music with her silver sound'--
# 	why 'silver sound'? why 'music with her silver
# 	sound'? What say you, Simon Catling?
# 
# Musician	Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound.
# 
# PETER	Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck?
# 
# Second Musician	I say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver.
# 
# PETER	Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost?
# 
# Third Musician	Faith, I know not what to say.
# 
# PETER	O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say
# 	for you. It is 'music with her silver sound,'
# 	because musicians have no gold for sounding:
# 	'Then music with her silver sound
# 	With speedy help doth lend redress.'
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# First Musician	What a pestilent knave is this same!
# 
# Second Musician	Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the
# 	mourners, and stay dinner.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT V
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE I	Mantua. A street.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter ROMEO]
# 
# ROMEO	If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,
# 	My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:
# 	My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne;
# 	And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit
# 	Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.
# 	I dreamt my lady came and found me dead--
# 	Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave
# 	to think!--
# 	And breathed such life with kisses in my lips,
# 	That I revived, and was an emperor.
# 	Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd,
# 	When but love's shadows are so rich in joy!
# 
# 	[Enter BALTHASAR, booted]
# 
# 	News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar!
# 	Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar?
# 	How doth my lady? Is my father well?
# 	How fares my Juliet? that I ask again;
# 	For nothing can be ill, if she be well.
# 
# BALTHASAR	Then she is well, and nothing can be ill:
# 	Her body sleeps in Capel's monument,
# 	And her immortal part with angels lives.
# 	I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault,
# 	And presently took post to tell it you:
# 	O, pardon me for bringing these ill news,
# 	Since you did leave it for my office, sir.
# 
# ROMEO	Is it even so? then I defy you, stars!
# 	Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper,
# 	And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night.
# 
# BALTHASAR	I do beseech you, sir, have patience:
# 	Your looks are pale and wild, and do import
# 	Some misadventure.
# 
# ROMEO	                  Tush, thou art deceived:
# 	Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do.
# 	Hast thou no letters to me from the friar?
# 
# BALTHASAR	No, my good lord.
# 
# ROMEO	                  No matter: get thee gone,
# 	And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight.
# 
# 	[Exit BALTHASAR]
# 
# 	Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night.
# 	Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swift
# 	To enter in the thoughts of desperate men!
# 	I do remember an apothecary,--
# 	And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I noted
# 	In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows,
# 	Culling of simples; meagre were his looks,
# 	Sharp misery had worn him to the bones:
# 	And in his needy shop a tortoise hung,
# 	An alligator stuff'd, and other skins
# 	Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves
# 	A beggarly account of empty boxes,
# 	Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds,
# 	Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses,
# 	Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show.
# 	Noting this penury, to myself I said
# 	'An if a man did need a poison now,
# 	Whose sale is present death in Mantua,
# 	Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.'
# 	O, this same thought did but forerun my need;
# 	And this same needy man must sell it me.
# 	As I remember, this should be the house.
# 	Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut.
# 	What, ho! apothecary!
# 
# 	[Enter Apothecary]
# 
# Apothecary	Who calls so loud?
# 
# ROMEO	Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor:
# 	Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have
# 	A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear
# 	As will disperse itself through all the veins
# 	That the life-weary taker may fall dead
# 	And that the trunk may be discharged of breath
# 	As violently as hasty powder fired
# 	Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb.
# 
# Apothecary	Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law
# 	Is death to any he that utters them.
# 
# ROMEO	Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness,
# 	And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks,
# 	Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes,
# 	Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back;
# 	The world is not thy friend nor the world's law;
# 	The world affords no law to make thee rich;
# 	Then be not poor, but break it, and take this.
# 
# Apothecary	My poverty, but not my will, consents.
# 
# ROMEO	I pay thy poverty, and not thy will.
# 
# Apothecary	Put this in any liquid thing you will,
# 	And drink it off; and, if you had the strength
# 	Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight.
# 
# ROMEO	There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls,
# 	Doing more murders in this loathsome world,
# 	Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell.
# 	I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none.
# 	Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh.
# 	Come, cordial and not poison, go with me
# 	To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee.
# 
# 	[Exeunt]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT V
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE II	Friar Laurence's cell.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter FRIAR JOHN]
# 
# FRIAR JOHN	Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho!
# 
# 	[Enter FRIAR LAURENCE]
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	This same should be the voice of Friar John.
# 	Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo?
# 	Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter.
# 
# FRIAR JOHN	Going to find a bare-foot brother out
# 	One of our order, to associate me,
# 	Here in this city visiting the sick,
# 	And finding him, the searchers of the town,
# 	Suspecting that we both were in a house
# 	Where the infectious pestilence did reign,
# 	Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth;
# 	So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo?
# 
# FRIAR JOHN	I could not send it,--here it is again,--
# 	Nor get a messenger to bring it thee,
# 	So fearful were they of infection.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood,
# 	The letter was not nice but full of charge
# 	Of dear import, and the neglecting it
# 	May do much danger. Friar John, go hence;
# 	Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight
# 	Unto my cell.
# 
# FRIAR JOHN	Brother, I'll go and bring it thee.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Now must I to the monument alone;
# 	Within three hours will fair Juliet wake:
# 	She will beshrew me much that Romeo
# 	Hath had no notice of these accidents;
# 	But I will write again to Mantua,
# 	And keep her at my cell till Romeo come;
# 	Poor living corse, closed in a dead man's tomb!
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# 
# 
# 
# 	ROMEO AND JULIET
# 
# 
# ACT V
# 
# 
# 
# SCENE III	A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets.
# 
# 
# 	[Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch]
# 
# PARIS	Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof:
# 	Yet put it out, for I would not be seen.
# 	Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along,
# 	Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground;
# 	So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread,
# 	Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves,
# 	But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me,
# 	As signal that thou hear'st something approach.
# 	Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go.
# 
# PAGE	[Aside]  I am almost afraid to stand alone
# 	Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure.
# 
# 	[Retires]
# 
# PARIS	Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew,--
# 	O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones;--
# 	Which with sweet water nightly I will dew,
# 	Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans:
# 	The obsequies that I for thee will keep
# 	Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep.
# 
# 	[The Page whistles]
# 
# 	The boy gives warning something doth approach.
# 	What cursed foot wanders this way to-night,
# 	To cross my obsequies and true love's rite?
# 	What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile.
# 
# 	[Retires]
# 
# 	[Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch,
# 	mattock, &c]
# 
# ROMEO	Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron.
# 	Hold, take this letter; early in the morning
# 	See thou deliver it to my lord and father.
# 	Give me the light: upon thy life, I charge thee,
# 	Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof,
# 	And do not interrupt me in my course.
# 	Why I descend into this bed of death,
# 	Is partly to behold my lady's face;
# 	But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger
# 	A precious ring, a ring that I must use
# 	In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone:
# 	But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry
# 	In what I further shall intend to do,
# 	By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint
# 	And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs:
# 	The time and my intents are savage-wild,
# 	More fierce and more inexorable far
# 	Than empty tigers or the roaring sea.
# 
# BALTHASAR	I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you.
# 
# ROMEO	So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that:
# 	Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow.
# 
# BALTHASAR	[Aside]  For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout:
# 	His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt.
# 
# 	[Retires]
# 
# ROMEO	Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death,
# 	Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth,
# 	Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open,
# 	And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food!
# 
# 	[Opens the tomb]
# 
# PARIS	This is that banish'd haughty Montague,
# 	That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief,
# 	It is supposed, the fair creature died;
# 	And here is come to do some villanous shame
# 	To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him.
# 
# 	[Comes forward]
# 
# 	Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague!
# 	Can vengeance be pursued further than death?
# 	Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee:
# 	Obey, and go with me; for thou must die.
# 
# ROMEO	I must indeed; and therefore came I hither.
# 	Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man;
# 	Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone;
# 	Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth,
# 	Put not another sin upon my head,
# 	By urging me to fury: O, be gone!
# 	By heaven, I love thee better than myself;
# 	For I come hither arm'd against myself:
# 	Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say,
# 	A madman's mercy bade thee run away.
# 
# PARIS	I do defy thy conjurations,
# 	And apprehend thee for a felon here.
# 
# ROMEO	Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy!
# 
# 	[They fight]
# 
# PAGE	O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch.
# 
# 	[Exit]
# 
# PARIS	O, I am slain!
# 
# 	[Falls]
# 
# 	If thou be merciful,
# 	Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet.
# 
# 	[Dies]
# 
# ROMEO	In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face.
# 	Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris!
# 	What said my man, when my betossed soul
# 	Did not attend him as we rode? I think
# 	He told me Paris should have married Juliet:
# 	Said he not so? or did I dream it so?
# 	Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet,
# 	To think it was so? O, give me thy hand,
# 	One writ with me in sour misfortune's book!
# 	I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave;
# 	A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth,
# 	For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes
# 	This vault a feasting presence full of light.
# 	Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd.
# 
# 	[Laying PARIS in the tomb]
# 
# 	How oft when men are at the point of death
# 	Have they been merry! which their keepers call
# 	A lightning before death: O, how may I
# 	Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife!
# 	Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath,
# 	Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty:
# 	Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet
# 	Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks,
# 	And death's pale flag is not advanced there.
# 	Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet?
# 	O, what more favour can I do to thee,
# 	Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain
# 	To sunder his that was thine enemy?
# 	Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet,
# 	Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe
# 	That unsubstantial death is amorous,
# 	And that the lean abhorred monster keeps
# 	Thee here in dark to be his paramour?
# 	For fear of that, I still will stay with thee;
# 	And never from this palace of dim night
# 	Depart again: here, here will I remain
# 	With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here
# 	Will I set up my everlasting rest,
# 	And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars
# 	From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last!
# 	Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you
# 	The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss
# 	A dateless bargain to engrossing death!
# 	Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide!
# 	Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on
# 	The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark!
# 	Here's to my love!
# 
# 	[Drinks]
# 
# 	O true apothecary!
# 	Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.
# 
# 	[Dies]
# 
# 	[Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR
# 	LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade]
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night
# 	Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there?
# 
# BALTHASAR	Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend,
# 	What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light
# 	To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern,
# 	It burneth in the Capel's monument.
# 
# BALTHASAR	It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master,
# 	One that you love.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	                  Who is it?
# 
# BALTHASAR	Romeo.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	How long hath he been there?
# 
# BALTHASAR	Full half an hour.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Go with me to the vault.
# 
# BALTHASAR	I dare not, sir
# 	My master knows not but I am gone hence;
# 	And fearfully did menace me with death,
# 	If I did stay to look on his intents.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me:
# 	O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing.
# 
# BALTHASAR	As I did sleep under this yew-tree here,
# 	I dreamt my master and another fought,
# 	And that my master slew him.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	Romeo!
# 
# 	[Advances]
# 
# 	Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains
# 	The stony entrance of this sepulchre?
# 	What mean these masterless and gory swords
# 	To lie discolour'd by this place of peace?
# 
# 	[Enters the tomb]
# 
# 	Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too?
# 	And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour
# 	Is guilty of this lamentable chance!
# 	The lady stirs.
# 
# 	[JULIET wakes]
# 
# JULIET	O comfortable friar! where is my lord?
# 	I do remember well where I should be,
# 	And there I am. Where is my Romeo?
# 
# 	[Noise within]
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest
# 	Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep:
# 	A greater power than we can contradict
# 	Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away.
# 	Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead;
# 	And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee
# 	Among a sisterhood of holy nuns:
# 	Stay not to question, for the watch is coming;
# 	Come, go, good Juliet,
# 
# 	[Noise again]
# 
# 		 I dare no longer stay.
# 
# JULIET	Go, get thee hence, for I will not away.
# 
# 	[Exit FRIAR LAURENCE]
# 
# 	What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand?
# 	Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end:
# 	O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop
# 	To help me after? I will kiss thy lips;
# 	Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,
# 	To make die with a restorative.
# 
# 	[Kisses him]
# 
# 	Thy lips are warm.
# 
# First Watchman	[Within]  Lead, boy: which way?
# 
# JULIET	Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger!
# 
# 	[Snatching ROMEO's dagger]
# 
# 	This is thy sheath;
# 
# 	[Stabs herself]
# 
# 	there rust, and let me die.
# 
# 	[Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies]
# 
# 	[Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS]
# 
# PAGE	This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn.
# 
# First Watchman	The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard:
# 	Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach.
# 	Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain,
# 	And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead,
# 	Who here hath lain these two days buried.
# 	Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets:
# 	Raise up the Montagues: some others search:
# 	We see the ground whereon these woes do lie;
# 	But the true ground of all these piteous woes
# 	We cannot without circumstance descry.
# 
# 	[Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR]
# 
# Second Watchman	Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard.
# 
# First Watchman	Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither.
# 
# 	[Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE]
# 
# Third Watchman	Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps:
# 	We took this mattock and this spade from him,
# 	As he was coming from this churchyard side.
# 
# First Watchman	A great suspicion: stay the friar too.
# 
# 	[Enter the PRINCE and Attendants]
# 
# PRINCE	What misadventure is so early up,
# 	That calls our person from our morning's rest?
# 
# 	[Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others]
# 
# CAPULET	What should it be, that they so shriek abroad?
# 
# LADY CAPULET	The people in the street cry Romeo,
# 	Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run,
# 	With open outcry toward our monument.
# 
# PRINCE	What fear is this which startles in our ears?
# 
# First Watchman	Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain;
# 	And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before,
# 	Warm and new kill'd.
# 
# PRINCE	Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes.
# 
# First Watchman	Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man;
# 	With instruments upon them, fit to open
# 	These dead men's tombs.
# 
# CAPULET	O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds!
# 	This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his house
# 	Is empty on the back of Montague,--
# 	And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom!
# 
# LADY CAPULET	O me! this sight of death is as a bell,
# 	That warns my old age to a sepulchre.
# 
# 	[Enter MONTAGUE and others]
# 
# PRINCE	Come, Montague; for thou art early up,
# 	To see thy son and heir more early down.
# 
# MONTAGUE	Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night;
# 	Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath:
# 	What further woe conspires against mine age?
# 
# PRINCE	Look, and thou shalt see.
# 
# MONTAGUE	O thou untaught! what manners is in this?
# 	To press before thy father to a grave?
# 
# PRINCE	Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while,
# 	Till we can clear these ambiguities,
# 	And know their spring, their head, their
# 	true descent;
# 	And then will I be general of your woes,
# 	And lead you even to death: meantime forbear,
# 	And let mischance be slave to patience.
# 	Bring forth the parties of suspicion.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	I am the greatest, able to do least,
# 	Yet most suspected, as the time and place
# 	Doth make against me of this direful murder;
# 	And here I stand, both to impeach and purge
# 	Myself condemned and myself excused.
# 
# PRINCE	Then say at once what thou dost know in this.
# 
# FRIAR LAURENCE	I will be brief, for my short date of breath
# 	Is not so long as is a tedious tale.
# 	Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet;
# 	And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife:
# 	I married them; and their stol'n marriage-day
# 	Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death
# 	Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from the city,
# 	For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined.
# 	You, to remove that siege of grief from her,
# 	Betroth'd and would have married her perforce
# 	To County Paris: then comes she to me,
# 	And, with wild looks, bid me devise some mean
# 	To rid her from this second marriage,
# 	Or in my cell there would she kill herself.
# 	Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art,
# 	A sleeping potion; which so took effect
# 	As I intended, for it wrought on her
# 	The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo,
# 	That he should hither come as this dire night,
# 	To help to take her from her borrow'd grave,
# 	Being the time the potion's force should cease.
# 	But he which bore my letter, Friar John,
# 	Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight
# 	Return'd my letter back. Then all alone
# 	At the prefixed hour of her waking,
# 	Came I to take her from her kindred's vault;
# 	Meaning to keep her closely at my cell,
# 	Till I conveniently could send to Romeo:
# 	But when I came, some minute ere the time
# 	Of her awaking, here untimely lay
# 	The noble Paris and true Romeo dead.
# 	She wakes; and I entreated her come forth,
# 	And bear this work of heaven with patience:
# 	But then a noise did scare me from the tomb;
# 	And she, too desperate, would not go with me,
# 	But, as it seems, did violence on herself.
# 	All this I know; and to the marriage
# 	Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this
# 	Miscarried by my fault, let my old life
# 	Be sacrificed, some hour before his time,
# 	Unto the rigour of severest law.
# 
# PRINCE	We still have known thee for a holy man.
# 	Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this?
# 
# BALTHASAR	I brought my master news of Juliet's death;
# 	And then in post he came from Mantua
# 	To this same place, to this same monument.
# 	This letter he early bid me give his father,
# 	And threatened me with death, going in the vault,
# 	I departed not and left him there.
# 
# PRINCE	Give me the letter; I will look on it.
# 	Where is the county's page, that raised the watch?
# 	Sirrah, what made your master in this place?
# 
# PAGE	He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave;
# 	And bid me stand aloof, and so I did:
# 	Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb;
# 	And by and by my master drew on him;
# 	And then I ran away to call the watch.
# 
# PRINCE	This letter doth make good the friar's words,
# 	Their course of love, the tidings of her death:
# 	And here he writes that he did buy a poison
# 	Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal
# 	Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet.
# 	Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague!
# 	See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate,
# 	That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love.
# 	And I for winking at your discords too
# 	Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd.
# 
# CAPULET	O brother Montague, give me thy hand:
# 	This is my daughter's jointure, for no more
# 	Can I demand.
# 
# MONTAGUE	                  But I can give thee more:
# 	For I will raise her statue in pure gold;
# 	That while Verona by that name is known,
# 	There shall no figure at such rate be set
# 	As that of true and faithful Juliet.
# 
# CAPULET	As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie;
# 	Poor sacrifices of our enmity!
# 
# PRINCE	A glooming peace this morning with it brings;
# 	The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head:
# 	Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things;
# 	Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished:
# 	For never was a story of more woe
# 	Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.
# 
#	[Exeunt]
# test parsing lots of comments